Four Hours
by BritishTraveller
Summary: Arthur and Alfred are stuck in an elevator, and it's Alfred's fault. How are they going to spend four hours alone together in an enclosed space? Please don't be put off by the first chapter, I promise it gets better! Rated M for language, France and possible later chapters. Mature readers, please.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, this is my first ever story so any feedback will be appreciated! Hope you enjoy the story!**

**Dislaimer - I neither own Hetalia or the characters used.**

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

The loud slapping of America's Converse as they hit the smooth stone floors was unmissable as barged through the rather crowded lobby. He turned a corner sharply, only to see his most reliable way of getting to the meeting on time departing. "Wait!"

A blonde man, about .6 of an inch smaller than the American, frowned and looked around, "Huh?"

"England! Press the button, dude!"

"Oh…"

Luckily for America, England had pressed the button just before the elevator had gone up. As the doors were about to close for a second time, Alfred squeezed himself through the gap, which couldn't have been much bigger than himself. "Phew!" he panted, hands on his knees. He looked up. Before him stood Arthur, chuckling. The Brit looked as gorgeous as ever; next to him, however, stood France.

"Good morning, Alfred. I'm glad you're finally on time. Well, only just... I hope you haven't forgotten anything?"

Oh shit. His notes. He'd forgotten his notes. He didn't even realise it was the World Meeting until seven o'clock that morning. Seeing the Englishman had already brightened up his morning though. It was only Francis who he didn't particularly want to see. The frog had pissed him off majorly last time he saw him, when he made a comment about him eating too many cheese burgers. He didn't eat _that_ many; at least not any more. Since he'd cut down by five a day, people had started noticing him more; Arthur in particular. "Arthur, press the button, _mon Cher_." Alfred cringed at the sound of the French accent.

"I-I don't know what floor it's on…" Arthur stuttered, his face flashing with panic for a half a second.

France seemed to read the Englishman's mind and winked, "_Soixante_."

_Sixty?_ Aw man, Alfred didn't even know there _were _sixty floors. Oh well. If it meant being in an enclosed space with a sexy guy like Arthur, then America could not care less; even if France was there. With this in mind, Alfred decided to press every button. All eighty-six of them. Heh.

"America! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Arthur screeched, his deep green eyes open wide at the sight of Alfred running his palm down the length of the panel, a trail of bright light following his hand.

"Chill out, dude! Just having some fun! It's not like the elevator's gonna break or anything!"

_xoxo_

At floor thirty-nine, after many stops, the elevator made some seriously worrying noises. "Alfred, you imbecile! I'm not staying in here any longer." France exclaimed as he exited the elevator. "_Adieu_, Arthur. I'll see you in the meeting room; _if_ you ever get there..." It wasn't until they were half way to floor forty-two that the lift stopped moving.

"Oh bloody hell, no, no, no, no, no… Urgh!" sighed Arthur, giving Alfred a glare.

"Uh…"

"Hello? If anybody there?" he asked into the microphone while repeatedly pressing the emergency button.  
Whilst England was occupied, America took this opportunity to slink to the back corner of the elevator; he knew it was his fault. Ah well… At least that jerk France wasn't there.

"Yes, sir," came a voice from the speaker. "We'll try and get you sorted within the next couple of hours."

"Hours?!" Arthur's voice broke at the word.

"Yes, sir." Replied the friendly voice. "We do apologise for any inconvenience, but out mechanics aren't in today; the only ones who are capable of fixing the  
elevator can only get here at two the earliest."

"Two?! Oh bloody hell! Alright, okay. Thank you for your help."

"That's alright, sir. We do hope the mechanics get here sooner rather than later. We'll keep you updated."

Shiiiiit. Four hours. Well… At least they wouldn't have to go to the meeting?

* * *

_Any and all feedback would be much appreciated! If you guys enjoy it I'll upload the next chapter soon. :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

"Um... England?" Alfred asked, playing with the sleeves of his bomber jacket.

"What?" was the sharp reply.

"I-er, I'm sorry. But hey, at least we don't have to listen to Germany rant on, heh?" Mumbles were America's only reply. He was about to speak again when England raised a hand.

"Just... Don't." Alfred sensed that Arthur was fuming, so instead of apologising and cracking another joke, he slumped down, head comfortably resting against the back of the broken elevator. Hopefully Arthur would soften within the next four hours.

_xoxo_

"Come on, Arthur! I _said_ I was sorry. I know we're missing the World Meeting but we can just copy notes from Germany, right? Aw come on, man! Don't be like that!" Arthur just sighed, looking down at the lanky american with his deep emerald eyes.

"Alright. You're still a bloody wanker though." he muttered as he sat down next to the American, their eyes meeting. Giggles filled the elevator, bouncing off the four metal walls that made up their home for the next four hours.

_xoxo_

The first hour was the hardest; or so they thought it would be.  
The whole sixty minutes were spent with both nations on their mobile phones; Alfred on Facebook, updating his profile picture to one of him and Arthur grinning in the lift, giving it the caption 'Three hours in a World Meeting? Pfft! Four hours in an elevator is the life!', and Arthur on Star Wars Angry Birds.  
The latter had completed both levels in forty minutes, but spent the remaining moments of the first hour unlocking the bonus levels and laughing with Alfred. "Only three more hours to go!" he announced as he closed off Facebook and put his phone away. He was actually surprised there was any signal in the elevator.

"Great, I was beginning to think I'd have to spend all day with you." Arthur joked. Alfred smirked. He loved it when Arthur was in a good mood, even just seeing him smile made his heart race.

"Artie, do you... do you like Francis?"

The Brit frowned. "Like him? I can bear him. He's a stupid git though, so full of himself..."

America had to restrain himself from laughing, he was so glad Arthur didn't like Francis, because neither did he.

"Why do you ask?"

"I hate the guy. Dude, he's just so...annoying! Especially when he flirts with everyone. He's a man-whore."

_A man-whore? Did he seriously just say that?!_

"Bit harsh, Alfred. Watch your language next time, too. He isn't a man-whore, as such; he just loves to flirt with a considerable about of people. It's really bloody irritating, actually. You're rather lucky, Al; you don't get that."

And he was right: America didn't get that. Almost everyone seemed to find him pretty obnoxious and he hated them for that. It wasn't _his _fault he was loud, hot, and had an awesome personality. No, that was their problem. He didn't even think they knew he was bisexual.

"Er, yeah. I guess not." He replied, trying not to let on too much. Just as he was about to say something else, Arthur quickly interrupted.

"Al?"

"Yup?"

"I-um... Are you too hot in here?"

America nodded, he was. Taking off his warm, brown bomber jacket, Alfred looked at Arthur. "Artie, have you ever had.. a girlfriend?"

The Brit's face started to go red. "O-of course I have! She was a human though... It was a long time ago."

"Oh, right... What about recently?"

"I had several through my punk phrases... That was around forty years ago though. Bloody hell, forty years! I am getting old..."

"Who were they?" Alfred inquired. He didn't really want to admit he was jealous... But who was he kidding? He totally was.

Arthur smirked, "Well, I can't really remember them all, Alfred." he added, chuckling and shaking his head. "I've been with nations and I've been with humans. Too many, if I'm honest... There was a young girl in the late two-thousands; Amelia, her name was. She was only young; sixteen."

America could feel the anger and the jealousy bubbling up inside of him; what he wouldn't give to have been that girl! "Oh. You go to prom with her?"

"Yes, I did. I have to say though, I didn't bloody enjoy it... A lovely girl, she was. I remember her still. Long, slightly wavy brunette hair and bright blue eyes. Ah, yes, those were eyes you could get lost in..." his voice trailed off until it was nothing more than a mutter, "Oh, bloody... Erm, nevermind..." he continued, cheeks now practically glowing red. "Ahem. W-why do you ask?"

"Just wondering!" replied Alfred with a smile. God, he just wanted Arthur so bad, he _never_ knew he'd even had a _girl_friend. He had a good guess that Arthur was bisexual too, but he wasn't going to say anything. Not just yet.

"And what about you, Alfred? Have you ever had an intimate relationship with a lady?" he questioned, nudging the American's side and winking when he said the word 'lady'.

The truth was, no. He'd kissed a girl, Elise, when he was young but it never went any further, nor did he want to.

"Y-yeah! Of-of course I have!" he exclaimed, hoping Arthur wouldn't see through the lie.

Said man, however, laughed. "Alfie, heh, it's alright. You don't have to lie. I know you're more into men."

"What?! Where the hell you get a crazy idea like that?"

"Mhm? So it wouldn't bother you if I did this? I'm too bloody hot in here..." replied Arthur again. As he said so, he started taking off his jacket, trying to look as sexy as he could as he did so.

* * *

_I'm sorry it's not too good and it is rather short. I promise the rest of the chapters are better. _**  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

Alfred watched Arthur take off his overcoat, noticing everything about his body. His slender frame and unusually broad shoulders complemented him strangely. Arthur smoothed down his brown suit jacket and loosened his tie slightly, then looked at Alfred. "That's better." He added, shooting Alfred a warm smile.

"Uh.. Yeah..." said Alfred; he _really_ didn't know what to say to the dashingly handsome man before him. He scoured his head, searching for something, anything to say. "Hey, Artie, wanna play a game?"

"I don't see why not." replied the Brit, a smile broadening on his face. He did love a good game.

"Right, well..."

"Mhm?"

"How about 'Truth or Dare?'?" Truth or Dare. Seriously? How old were they, five?

"You're making me feel rather old, you know." smirked Arthur. "It sounds good. How about we add a twist so I don't feel as old?""

"Ooh!" Alfred said eagerly, "If you don't want to answer Truth, you have to remove one piece of clothing!"  
He stopped and looked at Arthur, "We-We don't have to play it if you don't want?"

"Sod it, let's play!"

_xoxo_

"Ha ha ha! No way!" laughed Alfred, rather obnoxiously. His loud, irritating laugh was one of the things that added to his awesome personality. Or so that's what his brain said.

"Indeed, it's true..." sighed Arthur, watching Alfred wipe a tear or two from his eye; he'd just told him the embarrassing moment when France had caught him 'busying himself' in his room. He was actually surprised he had managed to live it down.

"Man, that's funny! Alright, your turn!"

"Truth or Dare?"

"D-Truth!"

"Would you rather screw Antonio or Lovino?"

"Dude! You can't do that!"

"Yes I can, now choose, Alfred."

"Dare."

The Brit frowned, "Dare? Can you do that?" he asked, his emerald eyes wide and shining. "Right, fine," he added, wafting his hand. "take off your shirt."  
The American was _just _about to take off his tie he was interrupted by Arthur..."You can keep that on. Just take off the shirt, Alfie, come on! I'm getting impatient!"

"Like you're never..." muttered the American as he unbuttoned his crumpled white shirt, he shrugged it off his shoulders, revealing perfectly toned muscles and abs. The sight of it made Arthur's mouth drop. He couldn't believe his eyes. Before, Alfred looked like the average lad, but now, eesh. He looked perfect. Sorta like a brand new Ken doll, just with a shirt Barbie forgot to iron.

Seeing Arthur in this state was hilarious, he looked totally mesmerised.  
"Like what you see? Ha ha! My turn!" yelled the American, pushing up his glasses and fixing his sparkling blue eyes on the Brit. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Tell me one thing about yourself that, like, I didn't know before?!"

"One thing, One thing..." the Brit muttered before looking up proudly, "I used to own a motorbike?"

"A _motorbike_? Dude! That so totally rocks!"

"I know..."

Alfred smiled Arthur, "Come on! Can I have a dare now? Please please please please please?"

"Oh, alright then. I dare you to ring Russia and ask for a gang-bang with the Baltic states."

"_WHAT?_"

* * *

**That's right, guys. I hope you all spat out your imaginary tea whilst reading the last bit!**

******By the way, I can NOT believe how many of you have read this! You guys make me_ so_ happy! Thank you so much. Love you all ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy! Just finished this, if you guys have any feedback then I'll be really glad to hear it. Also, THANK YOU ALL FOR READING MY STORY! **  
**To celebrate, I think all PrussiaxGermany fans should all take the time to enjoy this link: thegardenfairy. tumblr post/36147901026/nations-react-to-germancest (by the way, you might want to add a 'dot com' to the end of Tumblr c:)  
**

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

"You also need to do this whilst stroking your nipple." Laughed Arthur. He could _not _wait for this moment!

"Dude, that's not fair!"

"Erm, I think you'll find it is!" sniggered the Brit, "Just do it."

Before Alfred had even realised it, he was dialling Ivan's number. _Oh God.  
_  
_Ring, ring… Ring, ring…_

"Hallo, America. You called?"

"Er- heh, yeah.. I…" Alfred looked at Arthur, who was watching him and making circular motions on his chest and sniggering. "I was just wondering, dude, if…"

"Da?"

"You see man, I- I was just wondering if you- if you, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia were up for a little fun?" said Alfred, emphasizing the word 'fun' and repeating Arthur's actions. "If you know what I mean…"

"Fun?" asked Russia, clearly confused. "Ohh. _'Fun'_? Like a fivesome?...da, sure!"

Arthur couldn't help himself from snorting with laughter when he heard Ivan's reply. He really didn't think Russia would agree to it. Well, this _would _be fun!

"Oh, yeah. Er, great! I'll see you all at the next World Meeting!"

"Okay. See you then, Amerika!"

America cringed as he heard Belarus leap at Russia, making her creepy 'clackclackclack' noise. The last things he heard were the falling of a chair and Russia shouting "Go away! Go away!" in-between screams.  
Both America and England couldn't help but exchange worried glances, then laugh uncontrollably at the thought of what Natalya was doing to her creepy older brother.

"Dude, it's your turn now! Truth or dare?"

"Ehh... Just give me a dare." Grinned Arthur.

America thought hard for a dare, racking his brain. Then, the perfect idea came to him. "Sing the Star Spangled Banner." Said Alfred, watching Arthur's face drop. "Naked."

_xoxo_

Arthur didn't know what to do. Come on, sure he knew the tune, but not the words. "Al, really? I-I don't even know the words..." said he.

"Do it."

"I-"

"Artie, just take off your clothes and sing it!"

"But-"

"Sing the song of my people, Arthur."

America couldn't help himself with the last bit, he loved that Meme. "Well? Get that suit off and sing, dude!"

_xoxo_

"Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light.." started Arthur, stood stark naked in front of Alfred in the elevator. The boy blushed as he tried to cover himself up.

"Nuh-uh! Hands away, Artie!"

Arthur sighed and brought his hands away, his face turning redder and redder as Alfred looked him up and down.

"What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming..." mouthed the American, waiting for the Brit to carry on.  
Arthur did so and continued to sing the complete 'Star Spangled Banner' after Alfred, word for word.

After he'd sung the last line, Alfred clapped proudly. Arthur had guts to do that, especially after everything the two countries had been through together; and Alfred respected him for that. When the blue eyed boy had finished clapping, the Brit was quick to pull up his boxers and sit down. The American, however, didn't stop grinning.


	5. Chapter 5

**TWO FREAKIN' DAYS UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY. TWOOOOOOOO GUYS. JA, TWO. :D**  
** *Secretly wishes she gets more birthday reviews***

**Oh, and I hope you enjoy this. Please tell me what you think!**  
**Ve~!**

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Five

* * *

It'd been half an hour since their last round of 'Truth or Dare?', and the two nations were now sat on their phones, yet again.  
"Dude, seriously. Check this out!" Alfred looked at the Brit across from him, a look of horror on his face. "_Seriously_."

"What is it?" inquired Arthur, worried about what was to come.

"I-I found this... Website..."

"Carry on..."

"Stories... A-About us..."

"I'm sorry, what? Stories about us?"

"Yeah, dude, that's what I said, isn't it?! There's stories.. About us... Me and you."

"What?"

The American shoved his phone in Brit's face, the bright white screen illuminating it. "Read it."

Arthur looked closely, scrolling down when necessary. His mouth suddenly dropped. "Alfred!" he said frantically, "Have you seen who's written this?"

"Who?"

"Francis."

* * *

_Alfred grabbed Arthur, pulling him by his tie. "Arthur, I..."  
Just as he was about to kiss him, Francis tapped the Brit on the shoulder. "Angleterre..."  
Arthur didn't know which way to look. He was sandwiched between the two, trapped by the American and the Frenchman.  
"Arthur." insisted the American, pulling him back to face him and kissing him hard. Arthur gasped for breath, pulling away from Alfred. His attention diverted to Francis, who was studying the two, licking his own lips.  
Suddenly, he launched at the tempting Brit, pushing him backwards and slamming him down hard against the mattress that was near them. "Angleterre..." whispered Francis, straddling Arthur, sucking and kissing his neck, leaving little love-bites and light bruises.  
"Mmh, F-Francis.." mumbled Arthur in between moans.  
At this point, Alfred was starting to get jealous. Wanting to be part of the action, he circled the couple several times, hovering slightly - wondering when to join. Instead, he just sat down and enjoyed the show._

_ Francis was getting more turned on by the minute, and judging by Alfred's trouser-tent, so was he. The Frenchman pouted and then strode over to the American who was too busy fumbling with himself to notice Francis in front of him.  
Francis lifted up Alfred's chin gently and kissed the pale lips that were before him. Alfred looked shocked at the kiss at first but gradually granted the Frenchman access to his mouth, letting the others tongue explore.  
_

* * *

Both America and England looked at each other, horrified at what they'd just read.  
_  
_"Oh. My. God."

"Dude... That France guy's totally creepy!"

"I-I can't believe he wrote this. In such good English too!"

"Dude, did you even _read_ that? Us gettin' dirty with the _Frog_! Eww, man!"

Arthur shivered. He'd never really imagined what it'd be like sleeping with Francis, and he wasn't really wanting to find out, either.  
"Wh-what do we do about this story then?" asked Arthur, his emerald eyes locking onto Alfred's bright blue ones.

"Read the rest of it?" suggested Alfred.

"N-no, I don't think-"

"Come on, dude! I wanna know what he's said about our dicks!"

* * *

**So, yeah. Probably the worst of the chapters so far, but I really found this difficult. **  
** If you have any suggestions for this chapter then please tell me - reviews are also really appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! So I've just written this on the spot, it's rather long but I hope you like it!  
(I actually couldn't stop laughing when writing this.)**

**P.S - references to yaoi in this chapter. :)  
If you don't like it, please don't read it.**

**By the way - IT'S LIKE, ALMOST MY BIRTHDAY. AAAAHH. (26th) *****hopes for Hetalia-related Birthday presents and reviews***

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

_The sound of America panting was turning France on, his little gasps and 'ohh's when Francis was penetrating him were thrilling the Frenchman even more. "Oh mon Dieu!" he moaned in his silky French accent, kissing the American's shoulder and up his neck, leaving light bruises along his path. Whilst he was enjoying Alfred, Arthur was vigorously going at himself watching them, his beautiful hands gliding over his long, hard member._

_Francis didn't have time to warn Alfred before he exploded, instead he just cried "Oui!" as he filled the robust man beneath him.  
The American shuddered as he was filled with the Frenchman's sticky fluid. "F-Francis..." he mumbled huskily, only to be interrupted by said man kissing him roughly. The feel of the Frenchman's experienced tongue battling his own excited the American; they soon pulled away, hungry for air and turned to the Brit, who's deep emerald eyes were focused on the pair.  
Francis glanced at the American and nodded. Soon, Alfred had his knees on either side of the red-hot Brit and was straddling him on the other mattress, his eyes hungry._

_"Alfie, don't be a tease..." moaned the Brit as the American's strong hands were running through his blonde, tousled hair._  
_"Iggy..." whispered Alfred, running his hands down the Brit's impressive torso, kissing it all the way down and then his pink lips. He lightly ran the tips of his fingers down the man's side, making him quiver. Once he got to Arthur's pelvis, the handsome American got off the man and instead kneeled in front of him. While in this position __he placed soft kisses inside the Brit's thighs and looked up every so often when the man moaned._

_The American was unusually quiet and gave the other a wink before pressing his lips against the head of the Brit's shaft.  
"Alfie..." moaned Arthur; the feel of the warm lips on his throbbing dick was utterly exhilarating.  
_

* * *

The two nations looked at each other; their eyes wide.

"I-"

"I- um..."

The atmosphere in the enclosed space was tense. Neither of them knew where to look. America glanced down at Arthur and noticed he too had a trouser-tent. Man, this would be awkward. Alfred looked at his watch and noted it was only twelve-thirty. Only an hour and a half to go...

"Heh, dude, he called your dick long and throbbing!" laughed Alfred, making the Brit jump.

"Urgh, I think I might be sick..." muttered the other, his eyebrows scrunched up with a repulsed look plastered on his face.

America couldn't help but laugh hearing Francis refer to Arthur like that. The Englishman really did look like he was going to be sick.  
"Dude! I have like, the most totally awesome idea!"

"Uh," Arthur swallowed, "What is it, Al?"

"Right, we get your phone."

"My phone? Why?"

"Just get it out, dude!"

Arthur fumbled about a bit and after a minute or two he pulled out a band spanking new iPhone 5. He looked at it lovingly, then handed it to Alfred warily.

"Don't look so scared, man! Ha ha ha ha!"

"I'm just worried about what you're going to bloody do with it."

Alfred had always known Arthur's passwords; he typed in '1812' and the phone unlocked as if by magic. He was just about to press the 'contacts' icon when he looked closely at the wallpaper. The picture was of him and Arthur a few years back on Arthur's birthday; they'd just been out with a couple of the other nations as a surprise present when Alfred look the picture. He didn't even realise Arthur still had it...  
Going back to the contacts button, Alfred scrolled down until he found Francis' number. He pressed something so that the caller ID was different (this way, Francis wouldn't know it who it was) and dialled.

"Oi! Why are you wasting my credit?!" yelled the messy-haired blonde.

"Shh, dude!" whispered Alfred, he selected the call to go onto speaker and listened to the dialling tone.

_Ring, ring..._

"_Bonjour_?" came a familiar voice from the little box.

Alfred giggled girlishly and put on a voice similar to that of Canada's. "Hello, _mon Cher_."


	7. Chapter 7

**'Ello! Sorry for the 'graphic' yaoi in the last chapter btw, that was France. Naughty Francis; up to his old tricks again.**  
**Thank you for all your reviews and birthday messages too! :) I really appreciate them.**

**By the waaay, I'm not too good at French, so if there's any mistakes please PM me and I'll change it!**

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Seven

* * *

"Ah, Canada, _mon amour_!" France sounded more than a little happy to hear 'Canada' on the other end of the phone and laughed his infamous laugh. "Ahohoh! _Comment allez-vous_? I didn't see you at the World Meeting today!"

"Oh... I-" He panicked and looked at Arthur, not knowing what 'Comment allez-vous' was.

"How are you?" Arthur whispered.

"I'm okay... You probably didn't see me..." Alfred replied quietly, trying to keep up his impression.  
Arthur was sat there sniggering, trying not to wet himself. My God, this was _hilarious_.

"_Non_, how could I ever miss you, _mon Cher?_" was France's reply, sounding rather sexy as he emphasized the last phrase. "So? Where were you, _mon petit lapin_?"

"I... I-er..."

America was stuck. His mind suddenly went blank and he couldn't remember what his brother acted like. Nor could he remember what he was doing today...

"Well? _Est-ce que vous parlez Anglais_?" Francis laughed.

Shit. What _was _Matty doing today?! Why wasn't he at the meeting? Was he too busy making maple syrup?

"Maple..." was the only thing that came out of America's mouth. He'd really gone and fucked this up.

"Maple? Matthew, are you alright?"

"I-um.."

America stared at England, his mouth open. He wasn't expecting this! He'd just gone and done this on a whim, expecting to improvise. Now, he was totally buggered. Then, all of a sudden, it came to him. "Francis?"

"_Oui_?"

"I... I want you to cover me all over in maple syrup-"

"Ha ha ha!" laughed Arthur, loudly. He couldn't hold it in - it just came out. He quickly covered his mouth and chuckled into his hand.

"I want you to cover me in maple... and lick it off." whispered Alfred, he had his eyes closed and his teeth gritted, grimacing at the fact this wasn't anything his younger brother would ever do.

"Ahohohoh, _oui_?"

"_Oui_."

"Oh, well, when can I take you up on that, Matthew?"

The fact that the Frenchman had actually believed America was one thing, but the fact Alfred'd just made that up on the spot amazed Arthur. He could _never _do anything like that, even if he wanted to. He focused his attention back to Alfred, who had a worried look on his face.

"Uh.. When... When you screw me like you did Alfred... In your story." whispered the American.

Arthur was dumbfounded. "Ah. So that's his game... The bloody idiot." he muttered, shaking his head.

"_Excusez-moi? Je ne comprends pas_... I don't understand..." replied Francis, stuttering. Alfred knew he'd gone too far as soon as he'd said it. _What had he done?_

_xoxo_

Panicking, Alfred just giggled like Canada down the phone. His 'hilarious' plan had failed and he'd dropped Matthew in it. Man, was he going to get a surprise when he was next noticed. "I read your story..." he whispered. "I liked it."

Francis was panicking too. He wasn't expecting _Canada _of all people to be ringing him, he wasn't even at the World Meeting; plus, he mentioned his story. Now he was getting suspicious. "Oh, _oui_? Where did you find this story?"

"Uhh... England showed me." Alfred said quickly. Arthur just glared, mouthing vulgar and obscene words at the American.  
"He liked it too." Added America.

"Ah, _le baiser_. So you _and_ England liked it, eh?"

"Oh, yeah. Totally." giggled Alfred, watching Arthur as he said those cursed words.

"Mmm... We have to get you both involved in a little thing, eh? Ahohohoh... Like they say, 'it's not gay if it's in a three-way'."

* * *

**Ahahaha. This chapter is dedicated to my best friend, Raven. YO, SUP PLAYAAAAAA?  
Hope you all enjoyed, will try and update soon! Please leave reviews, I really love seeing them :)**

**(By the way, thank you to YouTubeStupidity12)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Wrote out this whole chapter this morning but the internet just refreshed itself, what. Had to re-write this from scratch for you lovely people whilst watching a horror movie and having vodka and oat biscuits! Seriously think I need to re-evaluate my life. ;_;**

* * *

**But hey, askcosplayfrance had a live web chat last night! Plus there was a little thing at my school for the people who went on a trip last month to New York and Washington D.C; (we got stuck there due to hurricane Sandy) and THERE WAS FREE SANDWICHES. DAAAYMM.**

**- Hope you've all had an awesome weekend and enjoy the story, C:**

* * *

"I LOVE THAT SONG!" shouted Alfred, forgetting who he was talking to.

"Pardon?" replied the Frenchman on the other end, clearly deafened by the "Canadian's" excitement.

America's voice dropped to a whisper, "I said, that's a good song. I love The Lonely Island..."

"Oui! They are a good band; I didn't know you liked them, Matthew? But oui, when should this occurrence take place? Ahohohoh~"

"Uhh..." The American and the Brit glanced at each other. Arthur's glance was one of animosity and disapproval, while Alfred's was just a curious one.  
Now, Alfred could either stand by his British friend and respect his wishes by blowing Francis off (not literally) or he could fuck it up, though Francis would be doing the fucking, and let the Frenchman have his way. Said man, being the brilliant friend that he is, decided to choose the latter. "I personally think Arthur would love to take you up on this offer today, tonight maybe, when he gets out of that elevator with Alfred?"  
Arthur glared, his eyes filled with pure malice.

"Ah, oui. So poor Angleterre is stuck with the American, non?"

"I'm afraid so..." whispered Alfred, smirking at Arthur as he did so. "Anyway, Francis, I have to go now. Au Revouir."

"No problem, Matthew. Adieu!"

Alfred pressed 'End Call' and slid Arthur's iPhone over to him.

Arthur was quick to comment, "America! You bloody wanker! You see that line?! You just crossed it!" he ranted, gesticulating. He looked like was restraining himself from throwing a punch. "Now you've gone and gotten me and Matthew involved in a threesome with France! What the hell is that all about?"

"Dude, you should have seen your face! Hahaha! Bless you; I think he was joking, you know!"

"If I know Francis, and I_ know_ Francis, he was not joking!"

"Calm down, dude. It'll be fine! The hero will save the day!"

Arthur did nothing, he didn't even open his mouth. He just simply sighed. He really didn't want to be involved in a threesome with Francis and a guy who looked similar to Alfred, oh no; he'd rather have the real deal. England glanced at America and was met by beautiful, deep gem-like blue eyes. The American smiled awkwardly at the other, "Dude?" again, there was no reply. "I'm sorry, man..."

Nothing.

"Please don't ignore me!"

Again, Alfred was met by a deafening silence. He hated being blanked and England knew it too. That bastard. He just wanted to make America suffer! Folding his arms, Alfred reluctantly faced away from Arthur. Judging by the way the other was acting, Arthur was a little miffed. Yes! One - Nil to the American.

* * *

After about twenty minutes, Alfred had completely forgotten why he was facing away from the only company he had and was sprawled out on his back on the hard, metallic floor. The American did a slight fist pump before whipping out his precious PSP and started playing his favourite game. He must have gotten _really _into it because mid-way through shooting some random guy, he heard his own loud voice bouncing off the four walls and was reminded him where he was. This place was like being in a tin-can.

"Good God, give me strength." whispered Arthur, clenching his fists. He'd tried to ignore Alfred to the best of his abilities but when you've got a handsome lad shouting "YESSS!" and "BOOYAAAA!" every two minutes, you just can't take it any more. He looked down at the American with a stern look but was met with a cheeky smile.

"Oops. Sorry, man. I didn't realise." smiled Alfred.

Suddenly, all of Arthur's irritation left him. He shook his head and softly smiled back at the American. "It's fine."

Alfred seemed surprised at Arthur's abrupt change of heart; he scooted up to the Brit and put his arm around his shoulder. "You alright, Artie?"

"Yes."

"Well... You wanna play with me?"

That sentence. That sentence just pushed Arthur over the edge; of course he wanted to play with him, just maybe not on his PSP... "Not on that bloody game console, no."

"Lighten up. Have some fun! We'll be out of here soon!" reminded the American, the least they had was about forty-five minutes. He looked into the Brit's mesmerising deep green eyes. They were the nicest shade of green he'd ever seen, and he'd seen a lot of green. Almost fifty shades of it.

"Yeah." Arthur retorted. "Let's have some fun." He looked up at Alfred and smiled ever so sweetly before placing a soft kiss on the American's lips.  
The other was clearly taken aback by this action and blinked a couple of times before he caught on; when realisation hit him he grinned and leaned down, kissing the Brit back delicately.

* * *

**I'm mid-way through the next chapter. I'll try update soon but I have an English exam tomorrow. :) If you enjoyed my story so far please leave a review!**

**EEP, OVER 5,250 VIEWS ENCOUNTING AND IT'S ONLY BEEN ON FOR 14 DAYS TODAY. Thank you all for your support and reviews etc., you're all awesome. :3**


	9. Chapter 9

**SPAMANO, SPAMANO EVERYWHERE. **

**By the way, this chapter's just filling in for the next one. (It's still as important!) I HAVE written like, a third of it, but I'm just stuck so I wrote this. I hope you can all forgive little me? :c**

**Oh, yeah, I did Spanish for a year or so. So yu'no, if I use any incorrect Spanish let me know. I'm currently learning German, French and little bits of Russian too. Bare with.**

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Nine

* * *

- Meanwhile, in the World Meeting... -

"Mein Gott. Ich can not believe those Dummkopfs are _still_ not here." muttered Ludwig as he stared idly at the two empty spaces across from him.

Germany rose from his seat just as Francis put down his phone. The rude Parisian had been talking to what Ludwig assumed was Matthew Williams for the past twenty minutes. Not that Germany had anything against the Frenchman and Canadian, but he thought it was just plain rude to interrupt little Feli when he was talking; but, Ludwig couldn't judge them. He'd be a hypocrite then. He himself had been on his phone throughout the young Italian's ramblings, trying to get hold of Arthur and Alfred. The German had tried to ring Arthur's mobile several times but was just met time after time with the same 'the person you are calling is on the phone' message.

"Ok, thank you Feli..." announced Ludwig, looking the Italian in the eyes.

"Did you like it, Germany?!" came a happy reply.

"Ja, Italy, please sit down."

Feliciano did as he was told and sat in the space between his brother Lovino and Ludwig.

"Everyone, I think that wir should habe eine Pause."

The rest of the nations nodded in agreement. "Da. That sounds good, Germany. I think we all need a little break..." smiled Russia. His hair was still a tad messy from the incident with Belarus an hour or so before. Speak of the devil...

"Так. I agree with my big brother." said Natalya, nodding in agreement.

"How long for, Germany?" asked Feliciano. His little wisp of hair bouncing as he tilted his head.

"Eh, Alemania, could we have an hour off, por favor?" asked a brunette Spaniard. He had his arm around Lovino, Feliciano's slightly older brother, who was swatting it away.

"_Eine Stunde?_" asked the German, slightly taken aback by the big ask.

"Si... Come on, Alemania! We've all had a long day and we're tired. Can we just have una hora? Por favor?" moaned Antonio.

"Spain! You bastard! Stop touching me!" yelled the elder Italian brother.

Every time the Spaniard rested his hand on his boyfriend's hip or leg, he was swatted away by the embarrassed and foul mouthed Italian. That didn't stop him though. Again, he carefully placed his sleek fingers on the amber-eyed boy's thigh, giving it a little squeeze.

"I swear to fucking God, Spain! One more time and you'll get a tomato in your face!" screamed Romano, his face going as red as said fruit.

"Romano, don't be like that, bebé..." whispered Spain.

By this point, Hungary had blood running down her chin from her nose; her raging nosebleed seemed to have no signs of stopping. "Can we just go?" she asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

All of the nations exchanged glances and nodded in agreement; none of them could wait to get out of the tense, hot meeting room.

_xoxo_

"I wonder where England is... He never misses a meeting. I'm sure France said something about a lift..." mumbled Germany.

He was sat on a hard wooden bench in the centre of Central Park, bundled up on the cool Autumn day and sipping coffee. He could kill for some wurst. He could kill America for some wurst, if he ever saw him. He couldn't get his head round the fact that the World Meeting was in New York City, and the host of the meeting hadn't even turned up. Neither had England. He was sure there was someone else missing, too. He just couldn't remember who...  
The German checked his watch and raised an eyebrow when he realised it had only been ten minutes since he was dragging his older, albino brother out of the meeting room, who had irritatingly confessed his love to Hungary, only to have been yelled at by Austria and hit by a frying pan. He really couldn't believe how embarrassed he was at that moment. Having to drag 'The Awesome Prussia' out by his arm while all the other countries wandered past, stifling laughs. Urgh.

Ludwig looked around. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he did love New York. Aside from all the commotion, it was a really nice place. He especially enjoyed peaceful moments like this when he had any spare time, when he could just grab a coffee or a snack and just chill out in his favourite place; Central Park. He glanced over to his left at a few young children, about nine or ten, playing in the red, orange and brown leaves. One boy was just jumping around, trying to step on as many crunchy leaves as he could. Another was running after a little girl in a pink hat, his black gloved hands carrying a big pile of leaves.

He looked to his right and noticed a young couple, who seemed to be in their early twenties, holding hands. The young lad was tall, slightly muscular and had short brunette hair. He was giggling with his stunning girlfriend as his black and blue scarf kept hitting her in the face as they walked, the cool breeze wafting it a little. She had long, curly blonde hair, probably bleached, and mittens on. The couple were fashionably dressed, as were most of the people in New York, but a little flag caught the German's eye. The young woman had the Union Jack attached to the side of her Superdry jacket, which reminded Ludwig again of the two missing nations.

Ludwig reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his icy fingers prodding in Arthur's number.

* * *

**Sorry it's not too good but it's the best I could come up with! I used the description of Central Park and NYC from when I went in October. _Mmm_, _crunchy leaves._**

**OOH. OOH. 6,850 VIEWS. :3 Dankeschön! **

**Hope you enjoyed it, anyway! I'll try update in the next couple of days; I've got English and German speaking exams soon though. *sigh.* **


	10. Chapter 10

**Over 8,000 of you have read this story, thank you all so, so much. I've had this chapter saved for a while, half finished. I started this before the previous chapter and I finally finished it, it was so hard! I really hope you're not disappointed by this, even if it is a little cheesy. DOUBLE FIGURES, BY THE WAY. WAHEY. :D**

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Ten

* * *

Arthur's lips tasted of cherries, the American noted. They were sweet and soft, irresistible and just perfect.

England beamed, his charming smile showed his pearly white teeth. He couldn't help but notice how the American's lips smelt a bit like McDonald's cheese burgers. That's 'murica for you. On the other hand, and Arthur didn't know why, Alfred's overpowering deep-fat-fryer stench actually, _weirdly_, attracted him _more._ It's strange how things work out.

Alfred leaned up and gazed at Arthur, taking in the young English man's beauty. Arthur did the same too, he looked up at the American, his eyes shining with pure ecstasy and smiled. The Brit had never felt this way about anyone before; it was totally different to how he felt with his ex-girlfriend, not just because this time it was a guy, but because it just felt... Right. Normal.

"I love you, Arthur. I've always loved you."

"I love you too, Alfred..."

Both of them had waited so long for this moment, this magical moment. And now it was happening. Neither of them seemed to be able to contain their excitement, the American and Brit both wanting to just kiss each other, hold each other, spend just a little while being intimate with each other. And now they had the time. So much time. They could have done this before and had ages together, but they didn't. Even so, that just made it so much more out of this world.

Alfred caressed Arthur's cheek and lifted his chin; their noses almost touching. Arthur could feel the warmth of the American's breath brushing the top of his lip. The two stifled a giggle and shared another kiss, the dim light of the elevator illuminating the scene and making it even more special and mystical. The sweet cologne the American was wearing was now smellable and drew the Brit closer than he thought two people could ever be. He found it alluring. Nice._ Sexy_. Arthur gently pulled America's golden hair, the silky strands running through his long fingers. Both of them enjoyed this experience, Arthur loved Alfred's hair; the way it fell, sticking up cutely in certain places, the way it felt running through his slender hands, the sweet smell and the perfect sunshine blonde colour. His favourite bit though was the American's little bit of stubborn hair that stuck up at the front. _It was just so sexy. _

Alfred enjoyed it too. He just couldn't bare it when the Brit yanked and pulled on his hair, or when he scrunched his hands up, grasping it within his palms. The slight pain he felt when he did it was exhilarating. When Arthur massaged his head too, it pushed America off the edge. Every finger he pressed into the American's head, the more he got turned on. _Why does he have to be so God damn irresistible? He knows what this does to me!_ yelled Alfred in his head. _Oh no, oh, please, make him stop!_ the thoughts were just flying around his head as he rolled his eyes back. Even he didn't know that just a stroke could push him _this_ far...

The American let out a quiet "mhmm..." when the Brit stroked his Nantucket, only for the moan to be devoured by Arthur. The two boys couldn't get enough of each other. Alfred pulled away from their never-ending kiss begrudgingly and slowly kissed Arthur's jaw line; one hand was placed on one side of Arthur's jaw and the other was placed on the Brit's hip, keeping him close. He then kissed down the Englishman's neck and shoulder, leaving little love bites and light bruises until he was stopped. America studied Arthur and frowned. "Did I do something?" he asked gently.

The Brit shook his head slightly, getting slightly lost in the American's true blue, deep eyes.

"You sure, dude? We- we can stop if you wan-" Alfred was stopped mid sentence by Arthur's slim index finger pressing against his lips.

"No." whispered England, barely audible.

The elder pushed Alfred hard against the shiny side of the elevator, the American's back touching the cool metal. He gasped as the chill took him by surprise; Arthur chucked. "Don't worry, Alfie... I'll warm you up..."

Alfred grinned. He'd never seen this side of the Brit before, it was scary and unnatural and so absolutely_ beautiful_. He actually wished he was feisty a bit more...  
Alfred tilted his head back slightly as Arthur began to run his hands down the younger one's toned chest, his fingers delicately inspecting it. If it were up to Alfred, he would have had the Brit on the floor ages ago and would have been banging him right now. But _he_ wasn't in charge - oh, no. _Arthur was._

The messy haired lad was enjoying himself. None of them had uttered a single word for a while and the only sound in the elevator was the echoed 'mmm's and 'ohhh's of the American.  
_ Just got to get him a little more revved up..._ thought Arthur, sniggering. He readjusted himself so that one leg was on Alfred's right and the other on the on his left. Straddling him made him feel powerful. In this position he leaned up, his bum just a little off the floor. His green emeralds locked onto the other's bright sky blue ones. Slowly, and he made sure it was slow, he made his way back up the American's torso. He yanked the tie that was draped around the younger's neck and pulled him in for a kiss.  
The sunshine blonde grinned as he pulled far away from it, gasping for breath. He focused his dazzling eyes on the wild-haired man in front of him and gripped the sides of his head, pulling him in closer for more intimacy. When they were close again, their foreheads and noses touching, the American tilted his head. His blonde hair brushed the Brit's cheek as he pressed his lips against the others.

* * *

**I'm sorry it's not very long but I got to get on with my Art book! (I'm drawing the TARDIS ;) I'm sure Iggy would be proud!)  
Hope you enjoyed this... _Please, please, please_ leave reviews and advice! I promise the next chapter will be up soonies!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning - BTT and kind-of Yaoi in this chapter.**

** If you don't like, then please don't read. Wrote this whilst I was ill so yeah, it's probably awful. Please review!**

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Eleven

* * *

The sunshine blonde grinned as he pulled far away from it, gasping for breath. He focused his dazzling eyes on the wild-haired man in front of him and gripped the sides of his head, pulling him in closer for more intimacy. When they were close again, their foreheads and noses touching, the American tilted his head. His blonde hair brushed the Brit's cheek as he pressed his lips against the others.

"Stop teasing…" moaned Arthur.

"Me? _You're_ the tease!" replied Alfred, kissing down the Brit's chest.

"Alfred…"

Alfred smirked to himself. He had England pinned down on his back on the cold elevator floor and was busy kissing his chest. He decided to focus on the messy blonde's nipples for the time being. Alfred licked and sucked on Arthur's right one, his other hand pinching his left. He could feel himself get more ecstatic with each moan that escaped the Brit's lips. Sadly, however, he failed to notice the intimidating image of Germany that had appeared on the iPhone beside him. He _**also**_ failed to notice his foot brushing the phone and unknowingly press 'answer'. Awkward.

_xoxo_

**Meanwhile…**

Francis stared at the security cameras. What was this? His beloved Angleterre and the pathetic Amérique engaging in some foreplay? He could not stand for this! If only he'd stayed in the elevator, then maybe it'd be him getting to pleasure the beautiful Arthur. God damn that stupid américain. _Why should he get to touch Arthur and not him?!_ Francis was getting madder and madder and harder and harder with each second of the security tape he was watching. He glanced over his shoulder at the guard he'd bribed; in America, all you had to do was waft a box of freshly made Krispy Kreme doughnuts in front of someone and they'd be on their knees begging. Well, that and the fact that Francis had kicked the man in the balls. Heh.

"Ahohohoh~ Don't you worry, mon cher Angleterre. I'll get that _gros American, _and then we can be together, oui? I know you're looking forward to our threesome with petit Matthieu..." Francis mumbled aloud.

He glared when the security guard groaned, clutching his crotch. "Ohhh, man! My jingle-bells! Dude, you're messed up..."

_xoxo_

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Answer your fucking phone you Dummkopf-" he mumbled through gritted teeth. He was getting real tired of their shit, when all of a sudden...

_"Alfred, please…"_ came a British voice from the small speaker. From what Germany could tell, he was panting. The fuck?

. . .

. . .

. . .

_"Call me Alfie."_ Grunted the American, a little after the British voice.

_"Alfie… Please…"_

Germany swore he heard Alfred chuckle and Arthur gasp.

_"Please what Artie?"_

_"P-please…"_

_"Look at me, Art. Tell me what you want."_

_. . ._

_. . ._

_. . ._

_"I want you to fuck me, Alfie. Please."_

. . .

. . .

. . .

Ludwig sat there, eyes wide and mouth agape. _What. The. Fuck?_ He covered the microphone and tried to listen closely.  
He wasn't a pervert. Nooo. _Not at all.  
__ Seriously!_ He wasn't... Honest... It was just the '_I want you to fuck me, Alfie._' bit that caught his attention...

"Doitsu! Doitsu!"

"Huh?"

Ludwig looked around the area he was in and noticed a rather excited looking Italian bouncing towards him, kicking the neat piles of Autumn leaves someone, more than likely a clean freak, had clearly taken their time to sort out. - No, it wasn't Germany. ... _Or was it?_ Nah, it wasn't, I'm just bustin' ya balls. - He was waving his arms in the air, hitting the occasional passer by.

"Was ist das, Feliciano? You just hit someone." said the German, sighing. '_How can he have so much energy?_' he thought, his attention taken away from the scene he was just previously imagining and could hear.

"Oops! Mi dispiace tanto! Mi dispiace tanto!" Feliciano waved at the young girl he'd just slapped, who looked rather flushed and confused. "Can we go ice-skating, Germany? Per favore? Come on, Germany! Let's go ice-skating! Vee~"

"Ital- Eislaufen? B-but..."

"Please, Doitsu? There's a rink just there!" exclaimed Feli, pointing to the famous Wollman ice rink before them.

"I know, Italien. I just-" the blonde haired German stopped himself when he thought he heard some rustling and hushing behind him.

"Piyo~"

Ludwig turned and glared at the bush behind him. Hmm. Wait - was that Gilbird he just saw?

_xoxo_

"Alfred, please…" begged the Brit. His usually pale, porcelain face was flushed red and he was panting slightly.

"Call me Alfie." Grunted the American as he carried on down Arthur's body; only stopping when he got to an obstacle – a pair of novelty navy blue boxers with an image of Elizabeth Tower, (Big Ben), on the crotch area.

"Alfie… Please…" whispered Arthur.

Alfred chuckled and kissed along the waistband of Arthur's underwear, gripping the elasticated waistband in between his teeth and peeling them off the sexy Brit. He could have sworn he heard him gasp at the sudden change of temperature. Big Ben was properly sticking up _now_.

"Please what Artie?" asked the sunshine-blonde, pouting.

Arthur sat up, trying to avoid the American's stare. "P-please…"

"Look at me, Art." Alfred knew he hated that name, so what better way to get him to look at him than to piss him off? "Tell me what you want."

As predicted, the Brit looked at Alfred, his mysterious green eyes piercing through him. "I want you to fuck me, Alfie." He contemplated yelling at the incompetent male but instead shook it off. "Please."

"If you say so…" grinned the American. Ooh, submissive Artie was just delicious. "Suck." Alfred ordered, holding three fingers out. Arthur looked slightly annoyed that they weren't getting straight to it but did as he was told and coated the American's fingers. After a minute or two, Alfred pulled his fingers out. He positioned them at the Brit's entrance and watched him grimace as he was intruded by the American lad.

Ten minutes of scissoring later, Alfred was stretching Arthur with all three fingers.

"Oh my God, Alfred, please…" said Arthur, his words only coming out as gasps as the American pulled his fingers out and started searched for some lube. Eventually, he found some in his back pocket. "You carry that around with you?" asked Arthur, who was not completely sure how he should react to that.

"Yup. Never know when I'll get lucky, ya'no? Looks like today was my lucky day, huh?" winked Alfred.

Arthur flushed red, even redder than he already was. He practically looked like one of Spain's tomatoes. He looked down and smiled slightly. Only slightly though, don't get too excited. He's still a major grump.

* * *

"Stupid Amérique. That should be me!" grumbled France, who was on the edge of his seat in the Security Room. He swiveled around on the office chair he was sat on and sighed. "Oh oui, I know Angleterre's imagining me. Why does that obnoxious américain have to get everyone before moi? I can't even feel up Canada any more!" He looked up at the screen again and his mouth dropped open at the sight before him. "Oh mon Dieu! I have to call Prussia…"

He whipped out his black iPhone5 and dialled the other member of the Bad Touch Trio.

"Hallo?"

"Bonjour, Gilbert!"

"Ah, hallo Franny! Is there something du want?"

"Oui, where are you?"

"Spying on West. I think that giddy little Italian motherfucker is after him! He wanted them to go Eislaufen! Eislaufen!"

"Oh… Well, can vous come here? I'm in the Security Room back at the conference… You need to see this!"

"Ja, ja. I will be there soon! This better be good!"

"Oh, mon cher, you have non idea!"

Francis grinned as he said "Au revoir." To Gilbert and rang Antonio; the Spaniard was probably trying to feel up Romano. Either way, they both just _had_ to see this!

_xoxo_

Alfred lubed himself up and positioned himself at Arthur's entrance. Sure, he was nervous, but the Brit seemed to be even more worried than he. "You ready, Artie? I promise I'll try not to hurt you, dude!"

"As ready as I'll ever be." mumbled Arthur; he looked up and smiled softly at the American, pulling him down for a kiss.

_xoxo_

"The awesome me has arrived! Suck it, losers!" yelled a booming voice from the Security Room doorway.

"¡Shh, Gil!" whispered an irritated Spaniard.

"Ooh, did someone get rejected by a certain grumpy Italian?"

"¡Hey, don't talk about my pequeño Lovi like that! He's not grumpy, he's just-"

"An Arschloch?"

"¡Gilbert, just because you dos don't get along doesn't mean you can insult him…dios mío!"

Francis sighed. "Gilbert, Antonio, tais-toi, s'il vous plait! I told you both to come here to see something."

"Ja, und? Was ist das?"

"Look." Francis said, pointing to the big screen in front of him labelled 'Elevator 2'. He was fed up of their arguing and just wanted them to see. "Look what that putain américaine is doing to my Arthur!" his voice had slightly raised and the other two members of the Bad Touch Trio noticed immediately.

"¿Your Arthur?" asked Spain, who'd totally ignored France's hand action and was still looking at him. Gilbert, on the other hand, was staring at the screen.

"Kesesese!" laughed Gilbert, who's piercing red eyes flashed to Francis. "You called us here to watch porn? In the Security Room? Couldn't you just wait until tonight, Frankreich?"

"Non. It is not porn!" yelled the long haired blonde Frenchman, "Actually… It might be. I'm not sure."

Spain took a glance at the screen and shook his head violently. "¡No, no, no! ¡I-I can't look at this! ¡Lovi will kill me!"

"I'm not sure if the awesome me wants to see it, either, Francis." Gilbert added, smiling. His smile showed off his pearly white teeth.

"Please, you know I've wanted Angleterre for ever, and now this stupid American's just taken him! Taken all of his pride and glory!" yelled the Frenchman. "Look! He isn't even enjoying it. He would if it were me…"

"Oh shit, is that _Arthur_ and _Alfred_? You never said, Franny!"

Antonio gasped as Gilbert received a punch to the face and slid down to the ground, groaning. Poor dude...

* * *

**Well, that's it for now! I hope it was alright and not to crappy. I really didn't know what to write and my head and ears are killing.**

**I won't update until I get ten reviews. Yup, I'm being a bitch. But hey, y****ou never know, I might even update after five... ;) **

**Merry Christmas! :D**

**Translations:**

**Doitsu - Germany. (Japanese)  
****  
(Italian)**

**Mi dispiace tanto - I'm so sorry! **

**Per favore - Please.  
****  
(German)**

**Eislaufen - Ice skating.**

**Was ist das? - What is it?  
**

**Arschloch - Asshole.**

**Frankreich - France.  
**

**(Spanish)**

**Pequeño - Little. **

**Dios mío - My God!  
**

**(French)**

**Tais-toi - Shut up.**

**S'il vous plait - Please. **

**Putain - Whore. **

**- Please tell me if I've got any of these translations wrong. :3**


	12. Chapter 12

**UPDATE:**

**Proper epilogue now uploaded!**

**Merry Christmas, dudes! :) Happy New Year, too!**

**This chapter is the last. I think, anyway. I don't want it to end...I've had so much fun writing it! 3,650 words in this chapter! Aah! 13,604 in total!**

**I'd like to say a massive thanks to everyone who has read, favourited, followed and reviewed my story! :D It was really hard to write this, I'm seriously bad at typing yaoi scenes. Sorry. I love you all for your support. :') Merci~**

* * *

Alfred smiled. He adored it when Arthur smiled and wasn't all tsundre. When he was it just sucked. Sucked balls.

But anyway, yeah. He loved it when Arthur showed his softer side. His lovely side. The not pathetic but adorably sweet, obedient, not-screaming-wanker-in-your-face Arthur. Yeah, that one. It was cute, and America just couldn't get enough.  
The sunny-blonde leaned down and kissed the Brit before brushing his cheek. The two exchanged a sweet smile before Arthur took one of Alfred's hands within his own and squeezed it, signalling he was ready.

"A-aah-" Arthur grimaced. You could tell he was in pain, bless him.  
'_Huh. He isn't used to this? And here I was thinkin' he and France got it on every week..._' thought America as he slowly slid himself into the adorable pink Brit below him.

"You okay?" asked Alfred. If anyone was hurting or in pain, Alfred had to help them! I mean, he was the hero, right? "Artie?"

"Mhm..." nodded Arthur, his eyes tightly shut.

"Dude, look at me."

Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand for some moral support and kissed his nose. (...Hey! There's nothing wrong with being cute and supportive, okay?...)

Arthur opened his eyes, emerald eyes staring into cerulean blue. He gritted his teeth before repositioning himself, and when he was ready, he nodded and squeezed back.

* * *

"¡Woah! ¿The fuck, Francis?" yelled Antonio as Francis backed up, having just punched Gilbert square in the jaw. "¿Gil, cómo estás?"

"Fucks sake, Franny! That fucking hurt!" groaned Gilbert, rubbing his slender jaw. "Ich bin gut, danke Toni."

"De nada."

"Francis, that was totally unawesome! What did I do?" asked the Prussian.

"J-Je suis désolé, Gil... But you weren't listening to moi !" said Francis, shaking his head. He had to admit, he did feel rather bad for hitting one of his best friends; but then again, he did kind of deserve it.

Prussia sighed. "Ja, Es tut mir leid..." His jaw wasn't hurting as much now, pain was certainly _not_ awesome.

"¿Mi amigos, what are we going to do about England y America?" asked Antonio, who was frowning at the two English speaking countries on the screen.

"I do not know, Toni. I just don't know." sighed France as he slid back into his spinny-chair.

* * *

"Germany, hey, Germany! Let's go ice skating, Germany! Hey, ice skating, Germany?"

"ARE YOU WANTING ME TO GAS YOU?!" shouted the German, much to Italy and other passers by's alarm.

"I- AAAAAAH!" sobbed Feliciano, who'd thrown himself on the floor at Ludwig's feet and was hugging the blonde's legs.

Ludwig looked around and noticed that several citizens of New York had stopped to glare at him and stare at the red-haired Italian on the floor.

"What a poor boy..." mumbled one woman.

"How could he be so heartless? The poor lad only wanted to go_ ice skating_!" said another.

"Aww, look at him! The poor lad. _He_ did nothing wrong! _I_ blame that bastard _German,_ never have been nice folk have the Germans, I tell ya'!" said an elderly man, wafting his erect finger in the air as he spoke.

"Oh for Gott's sake..." mumbled Germany as he glanced down at little Feliciano, who was still sobbing at his feet. "Erm, Feli-"

The young Italian sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "Si?"

"I- er, I'm sorry, Feli."

"Doitsu's not mad at me?" asked Feliciano, tilting his head at the German.

"Nein. I guess we would go ice skating if you so wish, Italy."

"Veee!~" yelled the giddy man, who grinned and jumped up, pouncing on the German. "Come on, Luddy!"

Ludwig sighed. Today was definitely going to be a long one...

* * *

Alfred slowly intruded the Brit, bit by bit, inch by inch. After most of his member was in the messy haired Englishman, he saw the other relax.

He then took this opportunity to gently stroke the shaft of Arthur's dick. He smiled slightly as the other quivered at his touch. "Art?"

"P-please m-move, Alfie." he begged.

Seeing no harm in it, the American obliged. He slowly started moving within the Brit, watching his every reaction.

"Go faster, God damn!"

"If you saaaay soooo..."

_'Mwahahaha!'_

* * *

"¡Dios mío! ¡I have it!"

Francis and Gilbert took their sky blue and blood red eyes off the monitor and turned to the brunette Spaniard.

"Quoi?" asked Francis, who'd been startled. His eyebrows suddenly came down into a frown. "What is it, Toni? Mon Dieu !"

"Ja, Toni! We're missing this sexy action, here!" grinned Gilbert. He kept turning back to get a sneak peak at the two English speaking countries getting it on.

"I just had the best idea ever, mi amigos. Gather around..."

"Just tell us already!" laughed the Prussian.

Antonio looked rather irritated that none of the Bad Touch Trio gathered but nevertheless he continued, "We could blackmail them."

* * *

"Ohh! Ohh! Germany! Oww! It hurts! Please stop it! It's too tight! IT'S. TOO. TIGHT!"

"Stop your moaning, Italy." sighed Ludwig, who was getting very irritated by the shorter nation every second. "I thought this is what you wanted?"

"It was! It was, honest! You're just hurting me!" Feliciano replied, trying to kick off the ice skates that Germany had put on, which were way too tight.

"Feli, stop kicking! Bitte stop kicking your legs!"

"Hmph."

Italy folded his arms, glaring at the Germanic nation until he saw said man starting to untie the laces. Feliciano unfolded his arms and instead started smiling, happy that he was finally getting rid of the boots weighing him down and cutting off his circulation. "That's better, Germany! They're a lot looser now!" he exclaimed when Ludwig stood up.

"Ja, I hope they're better." commented Ludwig. At least now the giddy Italian was content and they could go skating before heading back. How long was left of their break now, forty minutes? It takes seven minutes of brisk walking to get back to the conference. But then again, Feli's a slow walker... Hm. Yes. Germany was definitely going to be late back; and that just took the piss. He was _never_ late! Ever. Ever! "Hm, come along Feli. Let's go skating." smiled Ludwig, taking the Italian's hand in his. He might as well enjoy himself.

* * *

"And how do we do that, Toni?" asked Francis, suddenly intrigued. Blackmailing sounded like a good enough idea, but he wasn't sure if it would push England further away. That was the thing France feared most. After all, he did love the Brit and Arthur'd distanced himself enough already.

"Ja but how do we know it'll work? I mean, that American's such a dummkopf, he probably won't even do it." Prussia asked; he knew Toni was always good at ideas, but sometimes they just didn't work out.

Antonio smirked at his friends. "Believe me, they'll go along with it. Think about the advantage we have, mi amigos. The elevator shaft is only accessible from here and Francis was generous enough to tie up the repair workers." He gestured to the corner, where two repair workers were slumped against the walls, their hands and ankles tied together. The security guard was now tied to them, too. "Inglaterra y Estados Unidos have been in there for nearly cuatro horas now y we can see what they've been doing; all three of us know. I think that one of us should go down the ascensor eje and go into the lift. That way we can tell them everything we know... And we can make them do something."

The blonde and albino stared, open mouthed. Wow. This was one awesome plan, obviously not as awesome as Gilbert, but still pretty awesome.

_'How the _ficken_ did er think of that? Mein Gott...'_ thought Gilbert. He closed his mouth and opened it again to give a toothy grin. "Kesese! How did du think of that, Toni? Das ist sehr gut!"

It was France's turn to speak now; he turned back to the screen and got a glance at his beloved Angleterre being fucked by the American and his blood just boiled. Oh yes. He was liking this bribe idea. Of course, he'd have to be the one to go down into the lift. Put on a brave face and tell them what the Bad Touch Trio knew. "Oui. I should be the one to go down."

The other two stared at each other and the Spaniard shook his head. "No, Francis, you shouldn't. We all know how much you querer Arthur."

"Ja, the awesome me will go!" Gilbert declared. It would be a really bad idea to let the blonde go, especially in this state.

"_Non ! Moi ! _Je m'en vais_._"

"You sure, Franny?" asked Prussia. He didn't want to see his friend upset.

"Oui. I'll be going now." Francis added, forcing a smile and grabbing a rope before going over to the elevator shaft.

* * *

"O-oh! Dear G-God, Alfred!" moaned Arthur, shaking a little.

"You like that, huh?"

"Y-yes!"

"Good."

Alfred smirked as the Englishman threw his head back, getting so indulged in what they were doing. He was pumping Arthur's cock in time with his thrusts, which were getting harder and faster each time. Eventually he found the Brit's sweet spot. He knew he'd located it the moment Arthur widened his eyes, forming his mouth in a perfect 'O' shape and rolling his emerald eyes back.

"A-Alfie... There... Oh my God. I-I think I'm close-" Arthur managed to pant, his chest getting tighter and tighter as he got closer.

The American closed his eyes and sighed happily as Arthur leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss. "M-me too... I love you, Artie." he muttered as he thrust into him once more and stroked his dick, making them both come at the same time. They shared another kiss, although this one was rudely interrupted by a lanky Frenchman hanging from the square opening at the top of the elevator.

"A-Angleterre?"

Alfred turned around and screamed a totally legitimately manly scream. He got off Arthur and pushed himself against the wall next to him, covering himself with his infamous bomber jacket. He stared at the Frenchman, who was staring at the Brit beside him. "The fuck?!"

Francis squinted and then scowled, throwing down a rope and then sliding down it. He dusted himself off and flicked his hair back before looking back down at the two blonde nations butt naked on the floor. "Care to explain, mon cher?" he asked, tapping his foot. Arthur covered himself up whilst still staring wide eyed at the frowning Parisian.

"Do _you_ care to explain, Francis? What the bloody hell are _you_ doing here?"

"I've come here to give you a proposition..."

* * *

"He's in! Gil, look!" Spain yelled, keeping his eyes fixated on the screen. "When he's done, he said he'll look at the camera and wink..."

"Ja, ja. Okay." muttered Gilbert. He was currently watching Feliciano and Ludwig ice skate from a little camera he'd attached to Gilbird's head.

"Text _everyone_, Gil. _Everyone._"

* * *

"What kinda proposition?" enquired America, who was squirming under the Frenchman's glare.

Arthur sighed, knowing they'd been caught out. "Go on?"

"Well," started Francis, "we all saw you. Me, Gilbert and Antonio. Et we want to make a deal with you both." He gave a fake grin and wink before laughing. "Ahonhonhon~"

Alfred, being the obnoxious lad that he was, laughed. "You're blackmailing us? Pfft! Dude, not cool."

"Vas te faire foutre, sale américain." spat France. Alfred just turned up his nose. The blonde was getting bored of the American's little questions and interruptions. He wasn't usually this nasty, but something came over him and he suddenly felt rather guilty. Maybe these two were good together? "Je suis désolé." he added, sighing. "Now, you deux either go along with this, or we tell everyone about what you both got up to in here, oui? I'm sure they'd all love to know..."

"N-no!" stuttered Arthur. "Please, Francis-"

"Let him tell them. I don't give a fuck, man!"

"If you so wish..." smiled the blue eyed Parisian. "I guess I'll be going then. You might want to put some clothes on." He was just about to turn and go back up the rope when he heard a soft, English accent which stopped him in his tracks.

"F-Francis-"

He looked up again and smiled a genuine smile at the Brit, hoping he would get one in return from his l'amour. Sadly, that wasn't the case; instead, he received a harsh frown. "Oui?"

"We'll go along with your 'proposition'. Just please do not bloody tell anyone about this, okay, Frog?"

France swore he saw America twitch at England's comment, obviously wanting to seem like the good guy in this situation and make Francis seem like a complete dick, demanding things from them when they had every right to do what they did. (Though maybe not in an elevator, but hey, who cares?)  
"It depends on Amérique. Is he going to go along with it?"

Alfred sighed and threw his arm around Arthur's shoulder. "Fine. But dude, this is still not cool."

"Now you both promise do what I say, or _everyone_ will find out, oui?

Arthur and Alfred looked at each other. To be honest, now that Alfred had thought about it, none of them could risk their status' if people knew about this. Right now, Francis, Antonio and Gilbert were the only ones who knew about them, aside from themselves, of course. That meant five people. And any one of them could blurt it out at any time. But in all honesty, Francis wasn't one to break promises, and both of the English speaking nations knew that. In unison, they both nodded at the man before them. "Yes, yes. Of course."

Francis smiled at them. "Bon ! Now get your clothes on, Arthur, s'il vous plaît."

The Brit grabbed his boxers and slid them on, then gradually dressed himself in his smart suit again. He looked at Francis and gave him a look that said _'Now what?'. _Francis smiled at him, the urge to just lunge himself at Arthur getting stronger. He suppressed the feeling and turned back to Alfred, "Now you just stay there and look pretty for now, okay? Your part is rather simple."

"My_ part?_"

"Oh, oui ! You're going to be the one everyone's going to be looking at ! Just pretend it's a jeu. No-one will know any different."

Alfred sighed again. "And if I don't? What you gonna do, Frenchie?"

"Just bloody do it, Alfie! For God's sake, you twat." Arthur grumbled.

"I agree with Arthur." added France, smirking and winking at Alfred.

Just as planned, the Frenchman looked up to the camera and winked, also giving it a thumbs up. All of a sudden, the lift jolted and moved downwards very, very slowly. Francis took this as his exit and turned back to the sunshine blonde and Brit. "Oh, yes. You two have seen 'Gangnam Style', I assume? Well, you will re-enact the elevator scene. Pelvis thrusts and all. And don't bother telling everyone I set you up to it, parce que _je_ _will_ tell them _everything. Remember?_" And with that, he was gone. Pulling himself up the rope and onto the top of the elevator, he grinned to himself. He then pulled up the thick rope and climbed to the exit which would take him back to the floor he came from.

Francis burst into the room, smiling from ear to ear. "Get your cul to the bottom floor, both of you ! Il est going to plan !" He grabbed the two Bad Touch Trio members by their wrists and ran down the many, many stairs of the building. '_Bon job je exercer..._' Francis thought as he pulled the two not-so-light men.

Gasping, they got to the bottom floor just in time. Everyone was stood in the lobby. Hungary, Austria, Romano, Italy and Germany were stood together toward the left hand side. Japan, Hong Kong, Thailand, North and South Korea, China, Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Turkey and Greece were stood next to them, with the Asian nations in front of Turkey and Greece. (Height issues; first world problems, eh?)  
To the right hand side was the Nordics; Denmark, Iceland, Sweden, Finland and Norway. Sealand, though not a country, was there too. The Baltic states were lingering at the back, as far away from Mr Russia as physically possible without going out of the building. Several other countries were there also, although the space smack bang in the middle was saved for the Bad Touch Trio.

Before Italy could say _"Pasta!~"_, the broken elevator had come to a stop. The nations all stood in silence, save for Russia's quiet humming and Gilbird and Pierre's little chirps. The doors opened painfully slowly and revealed two blonde men. The countless countries gasped as they realised who it was; England and America.

Arthur was lay on the floor, face facing the 'audience'. He had black sunglasses on and his arms were folded. He looked like he was waiting to be hanged. And to be honest, he'd rather be waiting to be executed at that moment. It was so embarrassing. He heard several sniggers before he realised what was happening.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Alfred was thrusting. _Naked_. His member making loud smacking sounds as it hit the lad's thighs. The only thing he was wearing was a straw hat and a corny necklace with the face of the South Korean singer _ 'PSY' _ on it. Suddenly, Gilbert whipped out his speakers. He turned the bass up. The room was abruptly filled with the sounds of music; 'Gangnam Style' was playing loudly and the vibrations were bouncing off the marble floors.

"Oh, Mr America. What have you done..." muttered Japan.

"This reminds me of when I had Lithuania and Estonia perform it for me." added Russia, who was smiling brightly as people continued to laugh at the thrusting sunshine blonde before them.

_"Oh, maple!"_

People stopped laughing.

America stopped thrusting.

Gilbert turned off the music.

They all glanced down at the floor near the elevator doors. Lay on the floor was Canada, holding a video camera and a bottle of maple syrup.

He looked up. People looked down.

"Canada... The fuck is this?" asked America, wide eyed. "Dude, please don't tell me you were in the elevator the whole time... You- You didn't film it, did you?" He gasped and his heart stopped; he looked like he was about to kill the little Canadian. "DUDE?"

_"Oh, shit..."_

**Epilogue, I guess. **C:

Less than four hours later, the video of Alfred and Arthur was on many porn sites.

It had several thousand views, though many of them were from Francis, who was trying to figure out how to download it and Photoshop his face onto Alfred's body.

Matthew had gotten out alive. He had merely a scratch, but he'd managed to escape before the American had noticed.

The quieter boy was now sat on his couch, Kumajiro in arms, watching his bank balance slowly go up and up with every view his video received. Ah. This was the life.

* * *

**Well, that's it for now! I know I'm awful at yaoi, I cringe when writing them...**

**Feel free to PM me if you wanna talk or suggest things for my stories! Reviews for this would be seriously appreciated! :) Love you guys so much!**

Translations:

¿Gil, cómo estás? - Gil, how are you?

Ich bin gut, danke Toni. - I am good, thanks Toni.

De nada. - You're welcome/don't mention it.

Je suis désolé - I am sorry.

Ja, Es tut mir leid... - Yes, I am sorry.

¿Mi amigos, what are we going to do about England y America? - My friends, what are we going to do about England and America?

Mein Gott - My God.

Si - Yes.

Doitsu - Germany.

Nein - No.

¡Dios mío! - My God!

Quoi? - What?

Mon Dieu! - My God.

Mi amigos - My friends.

Bitte - Please.

Dummkopf - idiot.

Inglaterra y Estados Unidos - England and America.

Cuatro horas - Four hours.

ascensor eje - Elevator shaft.

_'How the _ficken_ did er think of that? Mein Gott...' - _How the fuck did he think of that? My God...

Angleterre - England

querer - love (Spanish)

Das ist sehr gut! - That is very good.

_Non ! Moi ! _Je m'en vais - No! Me! I am going.

Vas te faire foutre, sale américain. - Fuck you, ugly American.

deux - two.

Bon ! - Good.

s'il vous plaît - please.

jeu - game.

parce que - because

_'Bon job je exercer...' - Good job I exercise._


	13. Chapter 13

**So yeah, this is the last bit, guys! 4, 508 words! I hope you like it. I actually rather love this story. So sorry if they seem a bit OOC... I tried my best!**

** I also stopped putting Spanish and French punctuation in it as it was getting too confusing...**

**Please let me know what you think! Reviews are really appreciated! Thank you all again~**

_**Happy New Year! **_

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

It'd been a long day. A _very_ long day. Arthur flopped on the couch in his living room; well, his and Alfred's living room. He and the American had finally, 'officially', gotten together a couple of days after the 'incident' at the World Meeting. It was now late December, New Years Eve, to be exact. And all Arthur wanted to do was curl up with Alfred with a cup of tea and watch the celebrations. Hell, he might even chance asking if he wanted to go and watch the fireworks display in person.

Well, anyway, he'd had an extremely long day. The whole 'ERMAGERSH. I'VE SEEN YOU ON THAT PORN WEBSITE!' thing was starting to piss Arthur off greatly. Yes, he found it painful to know that video footage of Alfred and himself having sex was online and circulating all over the internet. But hell, what could he do? The damage had been done and he tried not to punch people in the face every time they recognised them in the street.

That was one of the things he had to go through on a daily basis. Although, today he had gotten the worst of it.

Flashback-ies:3

Arthur was walking through the rainy, gloomy streets of London when an _extremely camp man_ ran up to him.

"Oh my gosh!" yelled a middle aged man, who was rather short with twinkling brown eyes. He ran towards the messy haired blonde and squealed. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" Being dragged behind him was a young Spanish man, who looked a little dangerously too much like Antonio. "Look babe! It's Arthur Kirkland, you know that bloody hot guy we watched on that steamy video?" he asked, a little too loudly.

Arthur froze in the spot. All he wanted to do was go for a quiet stroll and maybe have a walk through Hyde Park before heading to the shop, and here he was, listening to famous dance expert Louie Spence go on and on about how brilliant he was in the video and how he found Alfred "a little bit yummy!". Oh dear, does this guy ever stop?

"I- erm..."

"Oh! And when you did all the 'Ohhh' and the 'Mmmm' I just MELTED. Oh babe, it was brilliant. Fantastic!"

"I really-"

"Oh! Oh! Oh! _Please _can I get my picture with you?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you?"

"Not at all, darling! Now just smile, I'll have this on Twitter in a jiffy. Oh, I can't believe I'm meeting such a sexy hunk like you!"

"Urgh-" Arthur sighed. He had nothing against Louie Spence, nothing at all. He was just a bit... Loud. And a show off.

The Brit smiled for the camera and looked at the Spaniard, who wasn't at all shocked that his husband had been so forward.

"Okay, Louie, let's go." said the man, who nodded at Arthur before taking hold of Louie's arm. "I think we're all in pain here."

The famous English dance expert just giggled and winked at Arthur, "Me and my husband get such a kick from watching you and the American, darling! Do another video, won't you? The way you had it all set up... It was brilliant!"

Arthur just grimaced and tried to ignore the little voice in his head that said 'Hit him! Go on, Artie! Deck him!'.  
Instead, he just forced a smile and looked at the couple, "Actually, me and Alfred were filmed doing that by his stupid brother... It er... It wasn't set up." he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Oh... Well, darling, get him to do it again!"

And with that, he was off, pulling his Spanish husband behind him as they made their way to 'Pineapple Dance Studios'.

After that unfortunate event, the Brit had face palmed and carried on walking. He was slightly glad that people didn't know he was one of the most important people in the country. If they did, well, damn. He didn't even want to think about it.

. . .

Arthur got up, sighing. Maybe he should have a word with Matt and ask if he could take it down? Oh, but then he'd sound like a spoiled sport and Alfred'd take the piss again, saying "Oh, lighten up, Artie! It's just a video! God, you're so grumpy and selfish."

Oh, bother. The Brit got himself up and walked over to the kitchen, pulling out a tea bag and a mug. He carried the kettle over to the sink and filled it with water before returning it back to its spot and flicking the switch. He then pulled out another mug, Alfred's favourite, and placed it next to his. The American would be back soon after his game day with Gilbert. Arthur poured in some hot chocolate into the Captain America mug and placed the tea bag into his own. At the same time the kettle finished boiling and made a _'click'_ noise, a familiar voice shouted,"Iggy! I'm home!"

"Hello, Alfred."

"Hey Artie! Ooh, did you make me hot chocolate?!"

"M'hm."

"Aw you're so cute!" exclaimed Alfred as he walked behind Arthur and held him from behind. "How did I end up with a cutie like you, huh?"

That comment earned him a flick on the nose.

"Owwww! What the hell was that for?!"

"Being a twat, twat."

"Hmph."

Arthur stuck his tongue out and grabbed his tea, not before dumping the tea bag in the bin mind you, and made his way back over to the couch. He could let himself go and be a little freer with Alfred. He didn't have to pretend to be all hard in front of him, no. He could be himself. Fun, soft, silly Arthur. The side not many got to see. "Nice time with Gil?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was alright I guess." Alfred replied, grabbing his hot chocolate that his gorgeous boyfriend had been so lovely to make.

"He beat you, I take it?" asked Arthur.

"W-what?! No! I totally beat his Prussian ass!" Alfred exclaimed loudly.

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then."

Alfred just pouted and plopped himself down next to Arthur. He slung one arm around the other and smiled his charming smile. "What did you do today?"

"I went for a stroll."

"Oh. Nice..."

Arthur looked at Alfred with his gem-like eyes and smiled softly. Alfred leaned down and kissed the Brit softly, both of them closing their eyes in the process. Aw, it was such a cute moment.

_xoxo_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Come on, Francey-Pants! Get in the car, would you?!" yelled Gilbert. _  
_

He and Antonio had decided to take the Frenchman out to a party after Gilbert was done playing COD with Alfred. (Oh, I know Gil called Al an idiot in the other chapter, but ya'no, he was trying to help his mate...) Francis insisted he was fine and for them to give it a rest, but they couldn't take no for an answer.

"Si, get in the car amigo!"

"Non, I said I was fine."

"Get in the God-damned car. NOW."

"Come on. It will be fun!"

"Non!"

"Por favor?"

"Non."

"Bitte?"

"Non."

"Why?" Gilbert asked, whining a little.

"Because I said I didn't want to! I don't want to go to a stupid party!"

"Come, Francis, please? It's at Arthur's?"

The Frenchman sighed when his friend mentioned the Brit's name. Oh, he had such pretty eyes, did Arthur... Oh, yeah. Anyway...

"Non! I- I don't care if it's at Arthur's! Alfred will be there... And he's just a big fat meany pants!"

The two other members of the Bad Touch Trio sighed. Antonio rested his head against the wheel while Gilbert frowned at France.

"Francis, seriously. Just get in the Gott damned car! I don't care if you don't want to see Alfred, ficken him. Get. In."

France pouted. "Oui, okay. Fine. SHOTGUN!"

"The fuck?! But I'm already-"

"Just move, Gil." mumbled Spain, who was losing valuable gas as they sat bickering.

Prussia glared and got in the back, letting the blonde haired friend take his space. When they were all buckled up, they made their way to the shops to buy some well deserved alcohol.

_xoxo_

"YOU DID WHAT?"

"C-chill, Iggy!"

"Why the bloody hell would you do such a thing?!"

"I- I just thought it'd be fun, ya'no? It_ is_ New Years Eve, after all! We don't wanna look like two losers staying in, do we?"

"So you invited everyone over for a party?!"

"Yeah, awesome plan, right?"

England clenched his fists and gave a deep breath. America clearly knew what was about to happen next and legged it, screaming "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" as his boyfriend chased him around the apartment.

* * *

"I'll have this, this, this, this and this. Oh! Und maybe this!" yelled Gilbert as he looked through the selections of alcohol in the big 'Asda' superstore near Arthur's home. He had a shopping trolley full to the brim of German beer, French wine and some stuff Spain had picked out, along with an endless supply of party food and condoms. From nachos and salsa to baguettes and brie, the Bad Touch Trio had it.

Gilbert was just about to place another bottle of beer in the trolley when a strange red blur came towards him...

"Aaaah!"

_Smash!_

"Was die hell?"

"Gilbert, Gilbert, Gilbert! Ciao!"

Prussia gritted his teeth. Fuck, not the giddy Italian again... "Italy." he said, trying not to sound neither too harsh nor too polite.

"Do you know where Germany went? I lost him!"

"Nein. I haven- Oh. Look, he's over there." he said, pointing to a random isle.

"Where?" asked Feliciano, tilting his head. "I-I can't see him!" he whined.

"West is right there, duh." smirked Gilbert, who was pointing to a big, bulky man who had blonde hair.

"Ohh! Grazie, Gilbert, grazie!"

Prussia was nearly crying with laughter when he saw the little Italian pounce on 'Ludwig'. He was literally on the floor holding his stomach when the man turned around and stared at Feliciano intently. The poor lad didn't know what to do. Gilbert could have sworn he head him mutter "You're not Luddy..." before being decked and bursting into tears. He looked up to see a _very_ unimpressed German standing before him. Ludwig. Aww shit.

"Oh, Scheiße. Er, West, what are you doing here?"

"Feli und I were out getting some things to take to Alfred's New Years Eve party."

"You're going?"

"Ja, Feli wanted to... But anyway, what the ficken do you think you're doing?"

"I was simply inspecting the floor, of course..." replied Gilbert. He stood and glanced over at Feliciano.

"M'hm. And would you like to explain to me why poor Feli's on the floor with a broken nose and you're here laughing?"

"Err, well, West, you see-"

"No, cut the crap." Germany shouted as he went and picked up Feli from the floor. "Are you okay, Feli?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned.

The Italian didn't say a word, he just nodded slightly and cuddled into Ludwig.

"East, I wish you weren't so-"

"Awesome?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm taking Feli home, we'll see you at Arthur and Alfred's?"

"Ja, ja. That Brit's such a tight ass. I'm only going 'cause Alfred's so awesome."

"Hm, well I expect you to say sorry to Feliciano when you're there."

And with that, he was gone. Leaving Gilbert with a smashed bottle of 'Beck's' to pay for alongside the BTT's crap. Scheiße.

_xoxo_

Blowing up balloons was not something Alfred particularly loved doing; personally, he'd rather blow Arthur. But that's another story for another day.

He was sat cross legged in the middle of their apartment blowing up red, white and blue balloons while Arthur moved furniture. "Why did we even bother doing this?" moaned Alfred.

Arthur just shot him a glance before rolling his eyes, muttering under his breath, "You're the one who bloody organised it."

After an hour or two of organisation, the two boys stood back and admired their handy work. The dining table was propped up near the back wall with a tray of champagne flute glasses, wine glasses and beer glasses - all full with different beverages from across the globe. At the back of the long table was an array of wines. French, Spanish, American, Italian, Chilean, South African... There was so much choice! Next to the wine selection was a couple of bottles of vodka, (just in case Ivan showed up - No one knew what the crazy Russian was capable of), and some Belgian and German beer. Underneath the table were nine bottles of champagne, too.

Luckily for the guests, Alfred had banned Arthur from making any of his deathly deserts and instead had set out a selection of foods. There was a variety of cheeses, a chocolate fountain with fruit, cakes and appetizers. America even told the guests they could bring drinks of their own if they wanted. They didn't need to worry about leftovers, though. Alfred would surely eat everything on the table.

Satisfied with what they'd done, the two of them sighed happily and Alfred pulled Arthur onto his knee onto the sofa.

"You know, Artie, we still have an hour..." Alfred whispered into the Brit's ear, making him shiver slightly. The American stroked up and down Arthur's side as he kissed him. Arthur smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, leaning in and placing soft kisses all the way down it.

"We do." replied an English voice.

"You wanna... Y'no?" Asked Alfred, getting straight to the point and nodding his head towards the bedroom door.

Arthur sucked gently on Alfred's neck, leaving it a little bruised. "Yeah..." he whispered seductively. He stood up and winked at the gob smacked nation, who really didn't expect him to oblige.

"Who's having the first shower then?"

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you wont be able to wal- wait, what?"

Arthur grinned mischievously before running off and hopping in the shower.

Alfred frowned and crossed his arms, stamping his foot. "Ohh but I wanted sex!" he yelled like a spoilt six year old, clearly peeved his boyfriend would pull such a trick. Surely it's against the law to leave your partner hanging, right?

~70 minutes later~

"Do I look too casual?"

"Not at all, dude! You look hot!"

"Hm."

Alfred smiled. His boyfriend looked hot. Like, really hot.

Arthur was wearing some tight jeans and a dark green t-shirt which outlined his cute little muscles; Alfred was wearing the same, but instead of a green t-shirt he had a bright sky blue one on to match his eyes.

_Bang, bang, bang._

"Hey, Feliks! Toris! Come in!"

"Yo', check it before you wreck it!" The unmistakable voice of Poland filled the apartment.

Arthur was stood behind Alfred, smiling. Seriously, he wasn't as tsundre as everyone thought! "Hey, Feliks."

"Yo' 'sup playa'?"

"Hi, Mr England." smiled Toris nervously.

Arthur frowned at the Lithuanian and simply said, "Call me Arthur."

After about half an hour, nearly half the nations were there. The Bad Touch Trio had announced their arrival with Alfred opening the door to Gilbert yelling "Ja, is this the party?".

The two high-fived and put some kick-ass music on, (the first song was 'German Sparkle Party' which Prussia knew every word to), leaving Antonio and Francis in the doorway with Arthur. Antonio soon scurried away claiming that he had to "find mi pequeño Lovino." The BTT had hatched a plan to try and get Arthur and Francis alone and share a kiss when the clock struck twelve. Even so, Gilbert was friends with Alfred the idiot, as he called him, and didn't want to see him unhappy. Then again, he didn't want Francis to be upset either. Urgh. Why can't they just pick different people?!

"So, Angleterre~"

"Yes?" Arthur asked; Alfred had strictly told him that he was to be civil with all of the guests, even France. Meh.

"Have you watched the sexy porno yet?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You know, the video Matthieu-" started Francis, his eyes shining as he thought of the film...

"No."

"You have not watched it? Ahonhonhon, but it is so beautiful! Englan you must see it!"

"Whatever, frog. And it's England." Arthur said, emphasizing the 'D' and making his way over to the table to get some beer. All he needed right now was a drink.

"I _knew_ you just wanted the 'D', mon amour!" Francis called, but the music was too loud for Arthur to hear him anyway.

On the balcony~

"And that! That one's Buckingham palace. That one's - erm... Windsor Castle, or something like that... That's the London Eye..." blabbed Alfred, who was showing off to Gilbert how much he knew about London. All of this knowledge he knew from Arthur, of course, but he never told Gilbert that, even if he could guess.

"Hey, Dummkoft."

"Huh? What?"

"Do you love Arthur?"

Alfred frowned. "Of course I love him, I mean, he's my boyfriend, dude!"

"You don't have to liebe him just because he's your Freund." Gilbert said. He really wanted to know if Alfred loved the Brit, if he didn't, then Francis had a chance. If he did, then... Well... Touch shit. Francis would just have to deal with it.

"What are you getting at, Gil? Do you love Artie?"

"_Do I love Artie_? Pfft! No way. He's not awesome."

"Then... Why are you asking? Has he done something?" Alfred's tone changed, he was getting a little frantic and angry, demanding answers. Prussia wished he hadn't even opened his awesome mouth.

"Nein! Nein! Nothing. I was just asking, Al."

The American smiled and leaned against the balcony railing, looking out onto the centre of London. "Okay, man. Well yeah. I do love Artie. I mean, yu'no, sometimes he _is_ rather stuck up and grumpy but I know he means well. He's sorta like my soul mate. I think, 'nyways. No one ever sees the side of him that _I_ do. He lets his guard down; dude, he's so much fun! You probably don't believe me, but it's true. He's a real sweetie. _I love him so much_..."

Wow.

Gil really hadn't expected that from America. Dude, he's 'MURICA, God damn it. He doesn't say mushy shit like that...

"Oh..."

Alfred looked over at Gilbert who was biting his bottom lip and looking through the glass doors, staring straight at Francis and Arthur.

"'Sup?"

"Oh, it's nothing."

America lifted an eyebrow and looked where the Prussian was looking. It kinda hurt when he saw Arthur talking to someone else. And that person was? Yup. The dazzling Frenchman himself. "Hm. Gil, does Francis have feelings for Artie?"

"I- I- er, I wouldn't know, Al..."

"He does, doesn't he?"

Without a reply, Gilbert walked off. He opened the balcony door and slid through it, quickly starting a conversation with the first person he saw. It turned out that the first person he saw was Roderich...

In the kitchen~

"Luddy!"

"Feli, please get down from there! Arthur might kill you if he saw you sat on his worktop..."

"Come here?"

"Was ist das?" Germany asked, coming closer to Feliciano. The Italian boy took the German's beer from his hand and placed it beside him. He then, being under the influence of alcohol, wrapped his legs around Ludwig's waist and pulled him close. Feliciano then wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck and kissed him. It was a moment that would make fan girls squeal.

The romantic moment, however, was ruined by Francis. The Frenchman, who was off his head, was following Arthur _everywhere_ he went. The poor man only went into the kitchen to get more food (which was requested by Denmark) and was cornered by the Frenchman.

"Fuck off will you? Bloody hell, I can't even get some crackers without you stalking me! Leave. Me. Alone!"

"Non, Angleterre."

"Urgh!"

Arthur slammed a cupboard door shut and looked up to see Germany and Italy staring at them. "I- er, sorry. As you were." he said, wafting his hand their way.

"Es tut mir leid, Arthur."

"Si, mi dispiace, Arthur..."

"It's fine." Arthur added, smiling.

The two were taken aback by the Brit's kindness and stared at him.

Suddenly, the music stopped.

_Ding, ding, ding._

"Everyone!"

All the nations turned to see a slightly irritated American stood in the middle of the room, tapping his glass as if he was about to do a speech at a wedding.

"So it's New Years Eve, guys! Twenty-twelve's nearly over! I personally think it's been a total bad ass year! I finally got to be with the most handsome, sexy, perfect guy ever!"

"Don't forget your porno!" shouted Francis, who was trying to shit stir.

"...And that."

"Shut up, frog."

"Don't be nasty to me! You know you l'amour moi!"

"Go to hell."

"AS I WAS SAYING..." carried on America, who trying to ignore the Frenchman and was attempting to get Arthur's attention.

"You love me, Angleterre! Don't deny it, mon cher!"

"Fuck off! I don't love you, you bloody twat!"

"L'amour is nothing to be scared of!"

America sighed. No one was even listening any more. What was the point?

He got down on one knee and waited for Arthur to look at him. It was ten to twelve now, so if this went to plan...

Ukraine gasped. She nudged Ivan, (Katyusha was glared at by Belarus in the process), who nudged Natalya who nudged Toris, Toris nudged Feliks who nudged Eduard, Eduard nudged Ravis who bumped into Mathias. Mathias spilled his drink into Tino and Tino threw his arms into the air, hitting Emil and Lukas. They bumped into Berwald who looked at Tino, yelling "M' w'fe!". Everyone stared at Berwald. Hercales then took a step back and stood on Sadiq's foot, causing him to yell and frighten Kiku. Kiku turned to find Lovino burning holes in the back of his head and shook, causing Antonio to fall and hit Vash and Lili. Lili went down, pulling Elizabeta. Elizabeta hit Roderich over the head with a frying pan.

Basically, in short, the whole scene was a fiasco.

After six minutes of helping each other up, they all turned and noticed Alfred on the verge of falling asleep. Their gaze then shifted to Arthur, who's mouth was open at the sight and was completely ignoring the fact that Francis was groping him. Prussia nudged Alfred awake with his foot; he opened his eyes wide and realised what he was doing.

"Oh, oh yeah! Now that I have your attention, Artie, I love you. I love you, like,_ so, so, so_ much! Man, you just make my world! I dunno what I'd do without you, dude." Alfred scratched the back of his neck nervously, "I-I guess this isn't the most _romantic_ place to do this, and I'm not dressed very well, but...", he fumbled about in his pocket and brought out a small black box. "I love you Arthur, please will you do me the honour of being my amazing husband? Will you marry me?"

"Y-yes!"

"EEEEEP!" yelled Elizabeta. She and Kiku had whipped out their cameras and started taking photo after photo.

"Casse-toi..." mumbled Francis.

Suddenly, the whole room erupted into cheers. (Apart from Lovino, who was grumpy, Francis, who was pissed off, and Natalya, who was still trying to get Ivan to marry _her_.)

The American slid the gold band onto the Brit's slender finger. "I love you, Artie!" yelled Alfred, hugging his now sobbing fiancé.

"I-I love you too, Alfie."

_TEN._

"Oh bugger! It's the countdown!"

_NINE_.

Everyone tried to hide their grins and looked out of the big windows that took up most of Arthur and Alfred's apartment. The newly engaged couple stood on their balcony, watching as hundereds of thousands of people were stood on the banks of the Thames, chanting the numbers in several different languages. Alfred and Arthur held each others hands tightly and shared another quick kiss before focusing their eyes back onto Big Ben.

_EIGHT._

Gilbert managed to find Matthew in all the commotion and slipped his hand into his, linking their fingers together.

_SEVEN._

Lovino cuddled Antonio tightly and smiled up at the Spaniard, who kissed the top of his head.

_SIX._

Roderich grabbed Elizabeta and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around the brunette girl.

_FIVE._

Toris looked down and felt Feliks' hand entwined with his. The boy sighed happily and rested his head on the other's shoulder.

_FOUR._

Francis sighed and walked up to Seychelles, slinking his arm around her and smiling. At the same time, Ivan grabbed Yao and chuckled slightly. The two stood and carried on chanting.

_THREE._

Berwald looked at Tino. Tino looked at Berwald. They knew what to do.

Ludwig glanced at Feliciano and bent down, blushing a little as the Italian jumped onto his back to get a better view. When he was satisfied, he kissed Ludwig on the cheek, causing him to even redder...

_TWO._

Liechtenstein grabbed Switzerland's arm and cuddled it, a content smile on her face.

_ONE._

Alfred leaned down and Arthur leaned up, giving Alfred one of the most passionate kisses he'd ever experienced. The couple eventually pulled apart to find several other couples doing the same and looked over to the London Eye, which had so many beautiful fireworks going off.

"If I could have spent tonight with anyone, I would still have chosen to spend it with you. Happy New Year." remarked Arthur as his emerald eyes locked with Alfred's sky blue ones.

"Happy New Year, dude. Hey, Artie, guess what?"

"What?"

"We've not had sex since last year."

* * *

Translations:

mi pequeño Lovino. - My little Lovino.

Casse-toi. - Fuck off.

**Hope you liked! Please review! _:)_**


	14. Chapter 14

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

**_Tuesday, February 12th._**

**_Pancake Day!_**

"Hey, Iggy," Alfred yelled, his voice bouncing off the cream walls of their living room. He was slouched on their sofa, one leg underneath the other with a can of Coca-Cola in his right hand.

"What the bloody hell is it, Al? Did you really need to shout me?" questioned Arthur. The blonde Brit was sat at the dining table, trying to book a table for the two at London's most expensive restaurant. On Valentine's Day. ...Which happened to be two days away. But Arthur was attempting anyway. The house phone was resting in between his jaw and shoulder as he frantically scribbled down their reservation number.

"What's the difference between jam and jelly?"

"I- what?" Arthur pressed the 'End Call' button and gently set the black phone down. "I don't know, Alfred. Why are you asking stupid bloody questions? The main difference between jam and jelly is the contents; Jam is made from whole fruit, meaning every edible part of the fruit is involved, while jelly is made from the juices. Jam is a thick, chunky spread, while jelly is a thinner, more evenly-textured-"

"Artie, shut the fuck up."

"But you asked what the difference was?" the British man frowned and looked at the American warily. _Oh, God. Please don't let it be another joke..._

"What is the difference between jam and jelly?"

"I-"

"I can't jelly ma' dick in your mouth!"

Alfred laughed obnoxiously, fizzy Coca-Cola coming out of his nose as he laughed. Arthur sat at the table, watching his fiancé snort with laughter at his rather unfunny joke. "Alfred, when I said to talk dirty, I didn't mean it like that and certainly not when I'm on the phone!"

Alfred carried on laughing. After five minutes of stomach creasing laughter, hardly any air and no Coke left, Alfred finally sighed and rubbed his side. He'd given himself a stitch. "Oh, oh God. Artie, your face! I think I've given myself a six pack!" As if for good measure, the American lifted up his Superman shirt and checked himself out. _You never know, dudes._

"Have you quite finished?"

"Come on, babe. It _was_ hilarious, don't you think?"

"Not particularly." grumbled Arthur. His American counterpart rolled his eyes and opened up iTunes on his laptop, hoping to download 'Thrift Shop' and piss Arthur off.

"It was though. Anyway, did you manage to get a booking?"

"No. It's packed."

"Oh. Oh well! The Hero will get a booking!" Al exclaimed, standing up. His precious, yet not well looked after, Apple Mac. tumbled to the floor; before long, the irritable sounds of Macklemore came through the speakers.

_"I'm gonna pop some tags! Only got twenty dollars in my pocket... I-I-I'm huntin', lookin for a come up, this is fuckin' awesome!"_

"Alfred, get that shit off!"

For the third time today, Alfred sighed. "Fine. But we get to go to McDonald's for Valentine's Day."

"Nuh-uh!" Arthur protested. There was _no_ way he was going to that crap joint. He'd rather eat a horse lasagne or burger. '_Actually, you never know. McDonald's burgers might even be made from horses. Well shit.'_

"Yeah, man! We can make a proper date of it! Yu'no, like go to the movies and then do Maccy D's!"

"No fucking way. We are not going to McDonald's _again_, Alfred. Please."

"Hm, fine. What about Wendy's?"

"No fast food!"

The American lifted up his forgotten about Apple Mac. and set it down on the coffee table. "Well, we have another couple of days yet, babe. We don't have to book yet..."

Arthur nodded softly, "I guess. I just want everything to be great, you know?"

"M'hm. And it will be." agreed Alfred. He shut down his laptop and made his way over to the blushing Brit. "Can we have pancakes now, Artie? Huh?!"

Arthur nodded and made his way into the kitchen; it was only when Arthur started flipping a black pancake that Alfred realised the mistake he'd made...

_**Wednesday, February 13th**_

_**The Day Before Valentine's**_

Alfred woke up early, too early, in his opinion. It'd just gone 7 am, the birds were chirping, Arthur was gently snoring, the sun was shining- wait. Scrap that, the sun was anything _but _shining. In fact, just the plain sight Alfred glanced at made him want to curl up in a ball and cry.

Even so, the goofy lad rose up from his slumber like a zombie, rubbed his eyes and stretched. When he'd made sure every bone was popped, he pulled himself out of the comfy bed, kissed Arthur on the temple as he did so, and groggily stood up. Alfred pulled the duvet back and smiled as his fiancé squirmed and frowned, obviously not used to the absence of his better half*.

*Whoops, sorry, other half. _;)_

Stifling a chuckle, Al turned around and opened a white door. Once out of their bedroom, he grinned to himself. _Yes! Finally up before Artie! Maybe I could make him breakfast?_

He pulled his boxers down slightly and ran a hand through his hair as he decided whether to go and brush his teeth or make breakfast.

He chose the latter.

Alfred sighed contently and walked into the modern kitchen, eyeing the fridge. When Alfred had reached his destination, he swung open the door with hardly any grace and pulled out two eggs, a pack of bacon and some butter. He placed them on the counter and reached over for some bread, popping four slices into the toaster placed in the corner. After flicking the kettle on and putting some instant coffee into his favourite Batman mug, Alfred made his way over to the stove and pulled out two pans.

Once the food was cooking and the toast was burning, he stretched over and poured out his drink, smiling to himself at the warmth of it. _Mmm. _

The American yawned and downed the rest of the strong drink, placing the cup in the sink and serving up breakfast onto two plates.

_xoxo_

Arthur frowned and snuggled into the duvet, trying to regain the warmth that'd mysteriously disappeared. He grumbled when he couldn't find it and smiled softly as Alfred kissed his temple. That smile was suddenly replaced by a pout as the American pulled away (which meant yet more warmth leaving) and started stomping to the kitchen. _Best go and see what the bugger's up to..._

_xoxo_

Alfred placed two sets of knives and forks at the dining table, plates too. Beside Arthur's was also a steaming cup of coffee; said Brit was just walking into the dining room when his lover was on his way out to get him.

"Oh, mornin' Artie! You sleep well, babe?"

After seeing the grinning pearly whites of his fiancé, Arthur tried to hide his smile and nudged past him to where to beautiful smell of food was coming from. "M'hm. What smells so good?"

Alfred beamed. "My cooking, dude! 'specially for you!"

"You cooked for me?" Arthur questioned as he pulled out a dining chair, soon plopping himself down and digging into the pile of breakfast food.

The American grinned, kissed the top of Arthur's head and sat down opposite, "Sure did, babe!"

When the couple had finished their meal and had cleared up, they both had showers; Alfred even tried sneaking into Arthur's once or twice, the sneaky bugger.

Arthur switched off the water and shook his head, droplets of water flying off in every direction. Stepping out of the shower, he reached out to grab a towel. The only problem was, there wasn't a bath mat... "Wo-oah! Shit!"

_THUD._

"Artie?... You all right?"

_Silence._

"Arthur?"

_Nothing._

"Art, seriously."

_Zilch._

"Arthur?"

Alfred rolled his eyes and growled. _Oh, funny Artie. Very funny. Not. _Alfred gave a deep breath, closed his eyes and opened the bathroom door, expecting Arthur to jump out at any given moment and scare him shitless.

Only, that moment didn't arrive...

Alfred exhaled and opened his eyes, displaying his striking blue irises. He frowned and looked behind the door, praying to God that Arthur wasn't behind it. The only problem being... He was.

The messy haired blonde was lying on his back, a red sticky substance trickling down the side of his face.

"Fuck! Arthur! Are you okay, sweetheart?" Alfred panicked, jumping up and down for a couple of seconds before realising he had to aid his love. He knelt down and gently ran his fingers through Arthur's hair, trying to find where the blood was flowing from. Before long, he found a small gash to the right side of his head. "Babe, are you awake?" Alfred asked, trying not to hurt Arthur. When his other half didn't respond, Alfred took the initiative to gently left him into his arms, holding him like a new born baby. "Sweetie, we're going to take you to A+E now, okay?"

The American sighed and placed a very soft kiss on his fiancé's nose. He also made sure to cover his 'junk' with a towel. After quickly grabbing a pair of black boxers, some jeans and a white t-shirt for Arthur, he rushed out of the apartment and ran into the lift, pressing the button three times for good measure.

Once the elevator was moving downwards, Alfred set Arthur against the back wall and shimmied him into his clothes, discarding the towel into the corner like it was rubbish and picked him up again.

_Ding._

Alfred rushed out, all the while making sure not to bump Arthur's head again, and ran to their car.

_xo_

"It's quite all right, Mr Jones. Mr Kirkland's just suffering from a concussion. We've given him six stitches in his head and he's perfectly fine now. I suggest the two of you go home and relax. Either set him down on the sofa or in bed and let him rest. Give him plenty of fluids and if needed, some paracetamol."

Dr Cosette Levine smiled sweetly at both Arthur and Alfred, the latter was taking down notes in a little Avengers note pad. Meanwhile, Arthur was looking out of the window, watching the raindrops gloomily make their way down the glass.

"Thanks, Doc! I'm _so_ glad Artie's all right! So just bed rest, fluids and pain relief, yeah?"

"Yep. It's that simple. If Mr Kirkland feels dizzy, has double vision, blackouts or anything else, then please come back." she added, glancing at the Brit.

"Will do. Thanks, again!"

"No problem. Take care, you two."

The lovely doctor smiled at the pair and walked off, her high heels making a clicking noise with every step she took down the linoleum corridor.

**_Forty minutes later..._**

Arthur groaned. "Bugger off, Alfred. I'm not handicapped." Said American huffed, fluffing up another pillow and placing it behind the English man's head.

"I'm just lookin' after you, dude." Alfred reasoned, giving the other a cute, childish pout.

The Brit rolled his eyes, "Yes, I know you are; but I'm fine."

"Right, well I'll only be an hour or so. You gonna be okay here whilst I'm out?"

"Yes."

"Do you need anything?"

"No."

"Want me to put _'8 Out Of 10 Cats'_ on?"

"Yes."

"Ya' want it turnin' up?"

"No."

Alfred smiled. "Okay. I'll just leave the remote here for you." He placed the object on the armrest of the couch. "Won't be long! Don't get into any trouble, babe."

Arthur rolled his emerald green eyes and wafted his hand in Alfred's direction, "Yes, yes. I'm fine, Al. Honest." he glanced up quickly before turning the TV up to 30, the irritating sound of Jimmy Carr's seal-like laugh filling the air.

_xoxo_

Alfred flicked through the vast selection of Valentine's Day cards, and after 15 minutes of pondering, decided upon a simple red card that had, '**Are you accepting members for your fan club?**' written on the front. _Yeah! Art's totally gonna love this! ...Isn't he? Oh well. He better had. This is some good shit. _

Alfred paid for his 'affectionate' card and waltzed out of the shop in search for Arthur's present. A few doors down, he stopped outside a Sci-Fi shop; as soon as he noticed the item, he just knew Arthur had to have it. _Anything for my little hamburger!_

* * *

**A/N:**

**THE VALENTINE'S DAY CHAPTER WILL HOPEFULLY BE UPDATED FEBRUARY 14TH.**

_Hey dudes! _

_How're you all? Shout-out to everyone who's voting/voted on the poll, read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story! _

_Massive shout out to AwesomeBridget, too, who read some of this chapter and gave me a couple of ideas for tomorrow's. :D _

_Please, if you have the time, leave a review! I **love** hearing what my readers think! _

STAY AWESOME, GUYS.

~BritishTraveller


	15. Chapter 15

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

**_Thursday, February 14th._**

**_Valentine's Day_**

Arthur fluttered his emerald green eyes open and glanced at the vivid numbers of his alarm clock. He had woken earlier than expected; 6:37 am, to be exact.

He was never the type to wake and go back to sleep, so he decided to prop himself up against the headboard and opened up page 72 of 'The Sign Of Four', one of the Brit's favourite Sherlock Holmes novels. Mid-sentence, Arthur sighed and slid a bookmark into the page. As he placed the original book back onto the bedside table, he glanced again at the clock. _6:45 am. Great._

The Englishman yawned and his mystical green eyes scanned the room, looking for something, _anything_, to focus on. His eyes finally rested on something he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or scared to see. It was only when Alfred started to softly pant the name '_Arthur_' that said man realised it was a God send...

_(Warning, guys, I don't wanna spoil the surprise but there's gonna be some content that some people may not appreciate, so don't feel like I'm forcing you to read it.)_

Arthur sneakily slid back down into the comfy white duvet and propped himself onto his knees, legs on either side of Alfred's. The American was lay on his back, head sinking into the goose feather and down pillow and making a dip. Arthur bowed his head down, his nose brushing the fabric of Alfred's sweatpants that was covering his throbbing erection.

Arthur could hear Alfred's breath hitch as he pulled the waistband down with his pearly whites, the American's erection springing out and twitching from the air that surrounded it. The Brit smirked, licked his lips and swirled his tongue around the tip, his pink tongue wiping off the little drops of pre-cum that had formed.

The American's panting had increased slightly and Arthur took a deep breath. Once he'd mentally prepared himself, he took the whole of his fiancé's length into the warm cavern that was his mouth, he swirled his tongue around it again. He opened his mouth again, America's erection coming out with a soft '_pop'_.

Alfred tossed his head side to side and furrowed his eyebrows. This dream was definitely getting out of hand...

England wrapped his slender fingers around the base of Florida and bowed his head even further, sticking his tongue right out and licking the whole length of it. _Oh,_ _God._

"M'hmm... Uh, just like that. Oh, God, Artie, you're so good..." Alfred groaned, thrusting his hips upwards into Arthur's face. Arthur glanced up, pushing the light duvet a little higher above his head to see what his fiancé's reaction was. America's mouth was agape in a perfect 'O' and he was breathing rather heavily. Arthur smirked, took Florida back into his mouth and began sucking.

_xoxo_

A loud gasp is what woke Alfred up. He was thoroughly enjoying his erotic dream, too! _Am I still asleep? _It was only when he he felt something wet going up and down his dick that he realised his dream had become a reality. _Oh, God. _And when Arthur started sucking and licking- _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh wow._

In all honesty... Alfred couldn't contain his excitement. _Is this really happening? Holy shit, man. Valentine's Day blowie? _

Then came more tongue swirling and sucking.

The American tried his hardest to appear lost in his dream-state; he even kept his eyes tightly shut, which wasn't very difficult considering his situation.

_xoxo_

"Ohh. Ohh, ohh, ohh. Arthur, jeeze, baby."

Arthur froze. _Is__ Alfred awake? Surely not... No. He can't be.._.

Alfred's dick was still throbbing in his mouth and his tongue was still resting against it... Before Arthur knew it, Alfred had shot his load to the back of the Brit's mouth and was gasping like there was no air left in the world. The Brit let the now half erect 'Florida' (as Al called it,) fall out of his mouth, and he shrunk back, not wanting to make eye contact with his partner.

"Ugh," Alfred panted, "Arthur, babe, come up here." The American gulped and lifted the cover to reveal an extremely red faced Englishman. "Why you hidin'? Come on, I wanna see your beautiful face."

_Uh, please, please, please, God. No- _Alfred pulled Arthur up by his forearms so that the smaller of the two was lying on top of him. The American grinned and kissed Arthur's nose, making him go even pinker. "Good morning," he said, in a voice so husky it would pull a dog-sled.*

"M-morning..." Arthur stuttered, becoming shy like he used to be.

"I love you so much."

"I-I love you, too..."

Alfred beamed, chuckled and placed a soft kiss on Arthur's lips. "Thanks for the wake up call."

"I- er-" Arthur gave a cute frown and sighed, snuggling his head into the crook of Alfred's neck. "I-I hope you liked it. I love you, Alfred."

"M'hm, I love you too, Art. Hey, wouldn't it be good if instead of moaning when you orgasmed you yodelled instead?"

And just like that, Arthur was once again lost for words.

* * *

**I PROMISE TO WRITE THE REST LATER. I'M WATCHING _I LOVE YOU PHILLIP MORRIS_ AND IT'S REALLY LATE AND I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR HOURS WHILE REJECTING MY BOYFRIEND'S MESSAGES. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, DUDES. **

**_I'll deffo publish the rest of this at weekend. I do apologise, but this is all you'll be getting until Saturday! Hope you liked it!_**

Thanks so much for reading, etc. Love you guys!

*My friend told me this from Tumblr, I credit whoever wrote it originally! :')

_Please leave reviews! The number of them will decide if you get part 2 on Saturday or Sunday... ;) _


	16. Chapter 16

_**BOOM. WE HIT THE 100 REVIEWS MARK. :D Thank you all ~**_

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

* * *

_**(Thursday, February 14th.**_

_**Valentine's Day)**_

_**10 o'clock**_

Arthur Kirkland rolled over. He rolled over and fell off the bed with a loud _THUMP._

"Bloody hell..." he groaned, rubbing his head. His blonde hair was stuck up in every direction, giving him a messy look. The Brit yawned, rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers and got himself up using the bed as support. Once on the bed, he turned to where his lover would be lying, presumably fast asleep. He wasn't.

Alfred was sat chucking on his side of the bed, dressed in a pair of jeans with a white shirt. "You okay, babe?"

"M'hm... What time is it?" asked Arthur, who was trying his hardest not to stare at Alfred's gorgeously tanned and toned body.

"Ten. Like the look of something?" America winked, making England blush and avert his eyes somewhere else. "Anyway, get dressed! We've got a big day ahead of us!"

Arthur groaned. Really, he had quite a bit of paperwork to be tending to. He shouldn't be messing about with Alfred over something as trivial as Valentine's Day. _Do people still celebrate that?_ He shook his head and sighed, giving what Alfred thought was a small smile. He walked over to his wardrobe and dressed himself in some jeans too, along with a light blue shirt with a couple of the top buttons undone. He looked divine.

Watching England get dressed, America smiled to himself. _Damn. It'd be so good if we were actually humans, like, we could hang out more! We could even adopt!__ Hm. I wonder if male countries can have kids... _When Arthur'd finished dressing,the American bounced over to him and squeezed him tightly. "You look hot, Artie!"

"Alfred, please put me down."

Pouting, Alfred did as he was told and set Arthur down on their carpeted bedroom floor. Once both feet were on the floor, the American walked off into their living room.

Arthur, missing the absence of his partner already, followed like a sheep. (Remember kids, never be a sheep! Be your own person.)

Once reaching the open space in the middle of their apartment, which they called their 'living room', Arthur was greeted by a grinning American; said man had a bouquet of twenty red roses in his right hand and a large paper bag with '**The Sci-Fi Experience**' written on the front. "A- Alfred F. Jones, what is the meaning of this?" asked Arthur, his cheeks the same colour as the roses Alfred was holding.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Iggy!" said Alfred, thrusting his hand out so that the roses were in Arthur's face. "I hope you like 'em! I've got you another surprise in here, too!" he added, gesturing to the blue bag.

An unusual smile crept across the English man's face as he took the flowers, setting them down on the coffee table, and turning back to America. "Thanks, love. They're really nice." his smile turned into a beam as he launched himself at the other English speaking nation, holding him in a tight embrace.

"Woah! You okay, Artie?" laughed Alfred as he wrapped his long arms around the shorter or the two. "Ha, I wasn't sure if you'd like them, actually."

Arthur smiled once again and gently pressed his lips against his fiancé's. "I do. Thank you."

"Oh! There's also this..." mumbled Alfred, rubbing the back of his neck. He shoved the bag into Arthur's hands and have a sheepish smile, "I'm not sure if you have one already, but... Ya'no."

Arthur smiled, "I'm sure I'll love it," he didn't look, but he put his slender hand in the bag and felt around. He frowned upon feeling some sort of furry thing and pulled out a long scarf. "OH." In England's smooth hands was a replica of Tom Baker's, the fourth Doctor, scarf. It was a mixture of beige, brown, yellow, orange, grey and maroon. "ALFRED! I LOVE IT!" For the second time that morning, Arthur launched himself at the American country. "Thank you so much! It's amazing! I love Tom Baker!"

"Hopefully not as much as me..." Alfred mumbled, cuddling his other half.

**_Ten minutes of cuddling, a gift exchange, a few kisses and a walk in the park later..._**

Dressed in black pants and a smart dove grey shirt, Alfred paced up and down the outside of their bedroom, sighing to himself. _Honestly, if England doesn't hurry the hell up, we'll miss the reservation. It's five o'clock already! _"Come on, Artie. We're gonna be late!"

"It's _Arthur_, and I can't find anything to wear! So shut the fuck up, Alfred!"

Said American groaned and rolled his eyes, turned and made his way to their bedroom. "_Arthur,_ just put anything on. You'll look sexy in anything, dude."

_Please let him be naked. Please let him be naked. _Alfred took a deep breath and rested his shoulder against the wooden door as he opened it. _Please let him be naked. Please let him be naked. _The scene that greeted him was a little different than he'd expected; instead of Arthur stood in the middle of the room naked, rose petals everywhere and champagne flowing, he was met with Arthur. Fully dressed in a sweater and khakis. With 60 items of clothing surrounding him. "A-Arthur, what _are_ you wearing?"

"Clothes; what does it look like?" Arthur questioned, stood with hand on his hips. "I've decided to wear this..."

"Woah, woah, woah, sweet child of mine! You are _not_ wearing that. Get dressed now."

"No. Let's go then." Arthur smiled falsely, barged past his American counterpart and swung open the front door.

Alfred face palmed, dragged Arthur back in and ripped his clothes off...

.

.

.

Only to replace them with some black pants and a white dress shirt.

"There!" Alfred announced, admiring his handiwork.

Arthur stood, looking dazed yet his outfit was perfect. His white shirt didn't have a single crease, nor did his suit pants. He looked perfect. Well, in Alfred's opinion anyway. "W-what just happened? Alfred! I was comfy in those!" Arthur exclaimed, arms flailing.

"We're leaving." Alfred announced. "I don't care. We are going and _that's it_."

"B-"

"No. Arthur, I don't give a flying fuck. We. Are. Leaving."

"I-"

"Arthur."

"Can-"

"Get."

"I-"

"Out."

"Get-"

"Of."

"My-"

"The."

"Scarf-"

"Door. NOW."

_**30 seconds later...**_

"Alfred! Do not manhandle me!"

Alfred scowled and got into the drivers seat of the car. He really couldn't be bothered with a grumpy Brit.

Arthur froze and sighed. _Really pissed him off now, you stupid twat. Why do you always do this?!_ "Al, I'm sorry."

"Whatever."

"I-"

"No; it's cool, bro."

Arthur got into their car and turned to face Alfred, who was gripping the wheel rather tightly. "Alfred, don't be like this. Please. I didn't mean to be a dick."

The Brit rested his slender left hand on top of Alfred's and kissed his cheek; "I'm sorry. Come on, I'll make it up to you later, love. We can do any position you want. Anything you want."

"Even sixty-nine?!"

"No- I- Uh. Okay. I did say whatever you want..."

Alfred instantly perked up at that and his trademark grin returned. "Fuck yeah!" After fist pumping a couple of times, he turned and attacked Arthur's lips with his own. "Let's go!"

_**A short car journey later...**_

Hands covering Arthur's emerald eyes, Alfred made his way to the restaurant '**_Hibiscus_**'. Once they were inside, he uncovered his lover's eyes and wrapped his arm around the man. Walking up to the front desk, they were greeted by the unusually cheery voice of an English man.

"Good evening, sirs. Do you have a reservation?" enquired the man. He was of average height, had dark brown hair and wore an obnoxious smirk on his face.

"Yep!" Alfred replied, flashing the idiot before them his Hollywood smile.

"Name?"

"Jones. Alfred F. Jones."

"Great. I'll be with you in a second, Mr Jones."

The idiot, who's name tag identified him as being 'Andrew', looked through the list of reservations. "Sorry. There's no Jones here, sir."

Frowning, Alfred looked at the reservations list, and sure enough, his name was not on it. "B-But- what?! I booked a reservation! Dude! Come on!"

'Andrew' smirked, "Well tough shit, man. Your name's not on the list."

Upon hearing the news, Arthur gave a small smile to Alfred and tugged his arm. "It's fine, Al. We'll go somewhere else, yeah?"  
_Oh damn. He's going to go off on one now..._

Alfred turned, "Nuh-uh! Babe, I booked a table for us both for tonight!"

"Excuse me, _sir_, but you're holding up several other couples who _have_ reserved tables; so if you wouldn't mind moving, thanks." Andrew butted in, glancing over Arthur's shoulder at the three couples behind them.

"Woah, woah. Hey, buddy. Don't you talk to me like that!"

Alfred looked like he was going to burst. His once calm and happy-go-lucky expression was now one of hate and even his lips were curled up at the side. _Fuckin' little shit. I'll beat his ass!_

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Mister Jones, if you do not mind please will you move out of the way. We will sort this whole shenanigan out momentarily." Andrew put on another fake smile and with his right hand moved Alfred to the side. "Thank you."

The man who stepped forward wasn't one who Alfred or Arthur expected to see that day. It was none other than a mister Francis Bonnefoy. Alfred's mouth dropped open at the sight of the French man, while Arthur just huffed and folded his arms. "Honhonhon," Francis laughed, twirling his hair, "What are you doing 'ere, Angleterre?"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur grumbled, "Oh, bugger off, Frog."

"That wasn't very nice! Et to think that I was going to get you a table, too!" winked Francis, who was licking his lips at the Englishman.

Sadly, Alfred seemed to notice the 'change' in the Frenchie's attitude and growled. "Francis, back the fuck off Artie, okay?"

Groaning, Francis turned to Alfred. "Ah, Alfred! Fancy seeing you 'ere, non?"

"What do you want?"

"I'll get you your table." smiled Francis, who turned to 'Andrew' and nodded, "If-"

"Woah, woah, dude. No 'if's or 'but's."

"Ahem. I will get you your table, _if_ you let me join you."

Arthur sighed. "No, it's fine. _Thank you,_ Francis, but we'll go somewhere else." Taking Alfred's hand in his, he proceeded to walk,(drag), Alfred out of the door and back to their car; which was wonderfully parked several, several, _several_ blocks away. "Why does that bloody Frog always turn up where ever we are?"

"I dunno, Iggy. But now we've got nowhere to eat and I'm dying here!"

_Flippin' 'eck, isn't there a time when he _isn't_ hungry? _Arthur thought to himself. "Right, right. We'll just go to McDonald's or something." He wafted his hand in any old direction, hoping there was one of the disgusting fast-food chains down there.

Seeing how disappointed his fiancé was, Alfred put on his Hollywood smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "Nah. We're going somewhere special."

"Special? I thought McDonald's was special?"

"Nope!"

"Oh. Right, okay."

Alfred beamed even brighter and dragged Arthur to Hyde Park, where there was a back-up picnic basket waiting on top of a checkered red blanket. _BOOM! It's still here! _ The American led England over to the blanket and presented him with their dinner. All around the blanket were little white tea lights in lanterns, all lit and giving the scene a rather romantic touch. There were red rose petals leading from the path to the blanket, and alongside the picnic basket were two champagne flutes and a bottle of the finest champagne. "Well?" Alfred asked, turning to the English man and smiling softly. "Do you like it?"

"I..." Arthur started, lost for words. "How did you-"

"How did I do this?"

Arthur nodded.

"Well, I _did_ try and book a table there, and I thought I had done, but this morning I set this out as a back-up plan. Looks like no-one else has touched it, which is an extra." Alfred held Arthur's hands in his, even bringing them up to his soft pink lips to place gentle kisses onto his knuckles. "I wanted it to be perfect, Artie. I'm sorry we ran into Francis, I sure as hell didn't plan that...But I love you. So, I hope you don't mind that we just do this?"

Arthur smiled brightly, focusing his shining emerald eyes into his lover's sky blue ones. "Not at all, love. This is perfect." Leaning up on his tiptoes slightly, Arthur kissed Alfred, their plump lips connecting for what seemed like forever. "Just like you."

* * *

_I'll give a mahoooosive shout-out again to AwesomeBridget, who's been giving me ideas and being just plain awesome for the last two chapters._

_Thanks so much for reading! I will announce whether there'll be a sequel soon... Remember to keep on voting! _

_& WAHEY, WE REACHED 100 REVIEWS. :D Danke~_

_Stay awesome broskies. _

_~ BritishTraveller._


	17. Chapter 17

WARNING: MAJOR MUSE FANGIRLING ON ARTHUR'S PART.

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

* * *

The next few days after Valentine's flew by far too quickly. Before any of them knew it, it was The BRIT Awards 2013; an awards show Arthur couldn't wait for.

"Alfred! It's The BRIT Awards tonight! Get bloody dressed!" Arthur yelled from the front door. He couldn't be late for one of the best programs of the year, could he? Plus, Muse were there. FREAKING MUSE. "Seriously! I don't want to be late and miss Matt!" He fiddled with his white shirt cuff and adjusted his black blazer, making sure he looked alright in the mirror near the door. Honestly, you'd think he'd was trying to impress someone... "Alfred!"

Stumbling out of their bedroom two minutes later was a clean, smart looking Alfred. He was wearing some casual black pants, brown boots, a white shirt similar to Arthur's and a light black jacket. Maybe not Arthur's choice of attire, but at least he looked nice and presentable. "Look good, right?" he asked, flashing Arthur a wink. When the Brit didn't giggle like a school girl at Al's wink, the American smiled softly and slid Arthur's hand in his. "Come on, we don't want to miss Muse, right?"

Ten minutes later, Alfred and Arthur were stood waiting for the tube. Rocking on the balls of his feet, Alfred had a moment of realization,"Artie, why are we getting the tube?"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur turned, "To get to the BRITs? Haven't you been bloody listening?"

"Yeah, duh." Alfred stared at his fiancé, who's mouth was fixed in a straight line, "I meant why are we getting it so early? It doesn't start until eight."

Again, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Alfred, that's not the point." he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We leave early so we can see everyone on the 'red' carpet, although it's not actually red this year... Bloody budget cuts..."

"Um, okay..."

"Plus we get VIP lanyards and get to meet the nominees, you know, seeing as though we're nations and all."

"They know we're nations? You tell civilians we're nations?"

"Not just _any_ civilians." Arthur replied, shaking his head and tutting as the train pulled into the station. "Come on, hurry up."

Alfred frowned. "'kay." _Oh well. At least I finally get to meet One Direction..._

Once on the tube, Alfred grinned and sat on the nearest seat, sighing from exhaustion - even though they hadn't been running or anything. "Ah! Finally! Hey, Artie, how long is this gonna take?"

When Arthur didn't reply, Alfred frowned and looked up, surprised to see his fiancé staring at a couple of men sat beside the American. "Dude, 'sup? It's kinda rude to stare, you should know that."

"I-I-" Arthur stuttered, completely amazed. Eyes wide open and mouth agape, he carried on stuttering, "I-"

Frowning, Alfred grabbed Arthur and pulled him onto his lap. "Arthur, please stop staring; it's really awkward." he whispered, trying anything at all to stop the blushing Englishman staring at three complete strangers. It was only when the tube suddenly jolted to a stop that Arthur stopped staring, for he went flying onto the floor. "Shit, Artie, you okay?" inquired the American, who automatically went to grab Arthur's hand.

Only Arthur didn't take Alfred's hand.

He took someone else's.

The two men who helped Arthur up was another blonde, around two inches shorter than Alfred with short stubble, while the other had rather dark brown hair and was shorter than the blonde by about another inch. They smiled at Arthur and asked if he was alright before shaking his hand and announcing their names. "You alright?"

"Y-yeah, thanks..." came Arthur's muffled reply; he was clutching the brunette's hand rather tightly...

"Great. I'm Matt. You can let go at any time, by the way." he chuckled, glancing down at their intertwined hands.

Arthur immediately let go and closed his mouth, which was still agape, before turning to the blonde. "Dom. Dom Howard. Nice to meet you...?"

"A-Arthur. My name's Arthur. And I know who you are!" said Arthur a little too loudly. "You- You- You're my favourite band!"

"Oh, awesome. Thanks! Hey, Chris, we've got a Muser!"

The three turned to a taller man sat next to Alfred, who was with his wife and one of their children. "Hey! Nice to know we've got fan- wait. Shit!" as soon as the man named 'Chris' said the curse word, he deadpanned. "I-I mean..." His wife slapped his arm, hissing something in his ear.

Alfred sighed. Who the hell were these people and why have they stolen his Artie? "Ahem..."

Nobody noticed.

"You're-" started Chris, but he soon lowered his voice, "You're England, right? The personification of this country?"

Both Dominic and Matthew shared glances before turning to Arthur, astonished. "Shit, dude. _You_are _England_?" asked Dom.

Arthur nodded. "Y-yes. I am. Sorry, I don't usually stutter; I- I'm just really excited to meet you!"

All three members of Muse grinned at that, "Serious? We should be the ones that are excited! You're fucking awesome, Arthur. Maybe try and sort out the economy a bit better though, yeah?" Matt chuckled. Grinning, he nudged Arthur's shoulder and turned to face Alfred, "So, who's the Yank?"

"I'm Alfred F. Jones!" Alfred exclaimed, finally happy someone had noticed his presence. Once he had their undivided attention, he carried on in a lower tone, "I'm America; the USA." He shared a small smile with Arthur and pulled him back towards him, again setting him on his knee. "And you three are...?"

"Wait a minute!" started Dom, "So, I kinda... Like... Live in _you_?"

"You live in the US?"

"Los Angeles."

"Awesome; it's pretty sweet there. But no, you live in my country, not me..." Alfred gave Dom a small smile, he wasn't too sure on the guy just yet. He seemed to have a lot of Arthur's attention. "Anyway, you guys didn't answer my question."

Scowling, Arthur flicked Alfred on the side of the head. "Alfred, you bloody imbecile! They're Muse! The best bleedin' band in the _world._"

"I thought The Rolling Stones were the best band in the world?" asked Alfred, obviously not sensing Arthur's tone. "And Bowie, you love David Bowie."

"Alfred, shut up. Please." begged the Brit, who was going slightly red in the face. "Muse are the best British band in ages; they're definitely one of my favourites."

Chris, Matt and Dom all grinned. "Aw, it's great to know that even our own _nation_ likes us! Thanks!"

Arthur went even redder and smiled sheepishly, "It-it's okay. Good luck with the opening performance. I know you'll be amazing."

"Thanks! Hey, lets get a picture?" offered Matt. It was then that Alfred realised who he was. _He's the dude who's engaged to Kate Hudson! I know him now!_

"I-"

"Go on, Art!" encouraged Alfred. They were nearly at their stop, anyway.

Arthur kissed Alfred's temple and sat in between Matthew Bellamy and Dom Howard; they squeezed Chris and Alfred into the picture and all smiled for the camera Matt was holding before taking a couple more of them with Arthur. "Thank you." mumbled Arthur, who giggled like a flushed teenager when Dom pinched his backside. Alfred gritted his teeth and pretended to not notice. He was most certainly _not_ jealous... Arthur gave the band another smile before scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and standing near Alfred again.

Less than a minute later and they were off the tube and on their way up the escalators behind the band they'd just met. Matthew was busy taking pictures of himself with funny faces to publish on Twitter to notice that they'd reached the top and tripped ever so elegantly. "Woooahh! Dommeh', help!"

Now it was Alfred's turn to roll his eyes. He sighed impatiently as the two others helped up Matt and trotted off to the awards ceremony. "Those guys are real asses."

"No they aren't! They're brilliant!" defended the Englishman, who was watching his favourite band skip off into the distance. Okay, skip off is an exaggeration. They walked off with very little grace. "Oh, Alfred. I can't wait to hear them preform Supremacy!"

"M'hm." Alfred nodded, pretending he actually cared. "So what do we do when we actually get there?"

"Well," Arthur stopped to exit the station and grab the American's hand, guiding him through mobs of people before they finally reached their destination, the busy streets being too loud for America to hear him, "we watch them on the carpet, talking to interviewers and what-not, and then we get to go in and sit at a table near the back. You can get drinks and snacks if you want." Alfred nodded, slicking his hair back. "We watch the performances and see who wins the awards, and then we can go to the after party. We don't have to, of course."

Shrugging, Alfred smiled. "Whatever, babe."

The pair watched from afar as the countless nominees and music legends made their way across the carpet. From Dave Grohl to Nick Grimshaw, everyone was there. Once everyone else was inside the O2 arena, the two nations followed hand in hand. After they'd slid on their lanyards with '**The BRIT Awards 2013 - VIP**' written on them, they went through a quick security check and sat down at their table, which they had to themselves. A wine cooler was placed on each of the tables, and depending on how many were on each table, had a bottle of white wine in it. Of course, you didn't _have_ to drink it, but who passes up on free booze? Certainly not Alfred F. Jones, that's for sure.

So by the time it was five minutes to eight, Alfred had just downed his first glass of white wine and had started on another. Arthur, on the other hand, was still nursing the same one, his index finger absentmindedly rubbing the rim of the glass.

"_FOUR MINUTES UNTIL WE'RE LIVE, EVERYONE; FOUR MINUTES._" announced a random chubby guy on the long stage.

In the blink of an eye, the lights had dimmed and the same pudgy blonde man was stood on stage, his black suit looking slightly tight for him, "Hello, everybody! Welcome to 'The BRIT Awards 2013' live from the London O2 arena!"

A second after the man, who Arthur identified as comedian James Corden, spoke, everyone in the audience clapped, the sound easily bouncing off every object in the room and therefore making it seem louder than it actually was. For a minute or two James cracked jokes about the twenty-twelve BRIT awards, making two thirds of the audience chuckle. "Well, to kick-start our show we have the outstanding, the amazing, the bloomin' brilliant Muse!" James presented the band with a white spotlight, and quickly the whole back of the stage was alight. As soon as Dom started drumming and Chris and Matt started playing their guitars, Alfred could see Arthur's breathing stop.

The whole appearance of the Englishman changed. Instead of scowling, Arthur's expression was one of complete awe. His eyes were shining like Alfred had never seen, (only when they'd first had sex, told each other they loved the other and when Alfred had proposed), his mouth was open slightly yet fixed into a grin, and he was literally bouncing in his seat.

Now, Alfred was never a _massive_ fan of English rock, but this was... Well, to put it into words... Amazing.

The American finally understood why Arthur liked them so much. He even grinned and watched Arthur as the Englishman sang along, his slender hands scrunched into fists as he imitated Dom's drumming skills and he even did a bit of air guitar. Once the band had finished, Arthur was panting and his grin was still plastered to his face. He didn't even wait until the music had come to a stop before he was stood up and clapping, clapping so hard with everything he had in him. All of his passion was put into those claps, and everyone Muse deserved. Most of the audience joined him, although not all were stood. Alfred frowned at this; were the British that hard to impress? _That was fucking brilliant! _he thought. The rest of the night didn't follow as well as he or Arthur expected. A few hiccups, James Corden was rather irritating. The only other bit that Alfred found awesome was when the host and Nick Grimshaw, the host of BBC Radio One, kissed. He found the whole ordeal adorable.

As the night drew to a close, Alfred found himself getting more exhausted; same with Arthur. Meeting Muse was a big deal for the small Brit! He'd worn himself out from all the singing and clapping he'd done.

Even so, Alfred was adamant that they weren't leaving until he'd met One Direction. Arthur had scowled at that. "There's no way I'm waiting for you to meet five bloody lads! They're nothing compared to some of the beauties English music had produced."

In mock horror, Alfred gasped, "Arthur Kirkland! They're British and you _still_ aren't satisfied! I like them. Give them a chance."

"I know you like them, Alfred. They do say that they've, 'taken America by storm'."

"Please, Artie! Can we meet them?!"

Arthur scowled, "Fine, whatever. Moron."

Less than ten minutes later, Alfred had found them within the crowds of artists. "Artie, look! Over there!"

"Alfred, they aren't a pack of wild beasts. We aren't on a nature program and you aren't David Attenborough."

"David Atten-what?" asked the American, frowning. "Anyway, come on, before we miss them!"

Scowling, Arthur shook his head, "Fine, fine. Go over then." Alfred grinned and grabbed Arthur's forearm, pulling him over to the corner where One Direction were having a chat with Rizzle Kicks.

"What do I do?" asked the American in a hushed tone. He'd never really met English bands before. Sure, he'd encountered The Beatles, Queen and bands like that, but certainly not One Direction, the biggest boy band in the WORLD right now. _(And one of the worst.)_

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, "Er, I'm not sure. Just go up to them and talk... I don't know."

Alfred deadpanned and stood there, glued to his spot.

But (un)luckily, someone just had it in for Alfred that night and a certain Muse member walked past, giving Arthur's ass a light tap before grinning cheekily, "So, what you guys doin', then?"

"Alfred wants to meet bloody One Direction."

"Oh." The blonde walked straight up to the lads and smiled, shaking hands with them all before talking and looking over his shoulder in Alfred and Arthur's direction. "Hey, Arthur! Come over here!"

Blushing, Arthur took Alfred's arm, Alfred sneakily sliding his hand into Arthur's, and guided him to the eight people. "Alfred, this is Louis, Zayn, Niall, Harry and Liam. Louis, Zayn, Niall, Harry and Liam, this is Alfred; the personification of the USA. And this is Arthur, also known as England or the UK. Oh, and Alfred, these two are Jordan and Harley; they're a hip hop duo known as Rizzle Kicks. They're pretty good, too." With that, Dom slid away, giving Arthur a smirk as he did so.

The seven boys stood in awe before they all grinned, glancing at each other. "That's awesome!"

Instantly, Alfred _knew_ he loved British bands.

* * *

_So, urhm. Yeah xD It's five to two in the morning and I'm seriously knackered. _

_Hope you enjoyed that chappie, ahah. I watched the BRITs live and fangirled so much when Muse were on. Sorry if they're not your thing, I just thought that Arthur might have a connection of sorts considering they're fookin' awesome and English._

_Oh, and Dom is my favourite, yes. He was born in the same town as me :')_

_In addition, I apologise for One Direction being in this chapter. I'm very aware that not everyone is a fan and neither am I; I guess some of their stuffs okay. _

_Anyways~ _

_Please leave reviews! I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE hearing from you xD I'm not trying to be a review whore - they just genuinely make my day! _

_Love you guys! _

_Stay cool, dudes._

_~ BritishTraveller _


	18. Chapter 18

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

* * *

Alfred awoke to a loud, bloodcurdling scream; one he'd not heard for a _long_time. He bolted upright, grabbing his wire glasses before scanning the room with his sky blue eyes. He glanced down next to him, hoping to God that his lover was there and that it was all just a petty dream. A small, Arthur shaped groove was on the other side of the bed and his pillow was stone cold. Alfred froze when another scream rang throughout the penthouse, and Alfred swore his heart stopped. Panicking, he shot out of bed and searched the room, just in case he _was_ hearing things and Arthur had just fallen out of bed… The American's eyes were wide as he quickly scanned the room; the large American and British flags hung on the opposite wall as usual; their wardrobe door was open a crack and their bedroom window was open slightly, letting in a cool draft; like usual. Alfred always thought that he had gained immunity to the cold breeze that always came in their room when Arthur would open the window, but now that the freezing harsh breeze was crashing against him, he wasn't so sure... He shivered and yanked the door open, failing to notice the smeared crimson hand print that had stained its self onto the white glossed bedroom door.

Taking a deep breath, Alfred scurried over to the front door and grabbed his handy baseball bat. When it was tightly and securely in his hands, the American made his way over to the living area. Nothing in the world could have prepared Alfred for the sight he was met with. There, perched on the armrest of the cream sofa, was Arthur. The shaking Brit was clutching his injured hand and Alfred immediately threw down his bat and ran over to him. "Artie, what the hell! Are you okay?" Instantly he threw his strong arms around Arthur, holding him close to his chest with Alfred's head resting on his shoulder. "Come on, what's wrong? Tell me. Please tell me." He ran his fingers through Arthur's dirty blonde hair and kissed the top of his head. "Artie?"

Arthur sat stiff, letting Alfred hold him. "I…" America froze.  
"You really scared me, dude! What happened to your hand? You're bleeding!" Arthur frowned and looked down.  
"No shit, Sherlock."

"'Sorry… I was just alarmed, that is all. What happened?"

"I… There was this…" Arthur sighed, "I guess I'll just start at the beginning…" Alfred nodded before shifting the Englishman in his arms to get a first aid kit from the kitchen. "Well, you were fidgeting like a bloody manic," ('_Hey! I do _not _fidget!') "and I could not_ sleep, so I decided to get up." Alfred placed Arthur on the kitchen worktop as he put some antiseptic on the long gash on England's left hand. England flinched as the cold substance was put on his palm, "So I came into the kitchen and I didn't have any tea last night so I was _starving_._" _

"But, Arthur, you always have tea; Earl Grey before you go to bed." Alfred spoke aloud while wrapping a bandage around the other nation's arm. "I saw you."

"I meant dinner, you know, evening meal?"

"Oh, oh yeah."

"I came in here," Arthur started, gesticulating to the open kitchen, "and I decided to make myself something to eat." Alfred nodded. "I got a knife out." The Brit nodded his head to a knife, perched on top of the counter. "I went to cut myself a teacake and then I look up; I look up and there's this bloody… _Thing_ there!"

"What do you mean by _thing_, Arthur?" enquired Alfred, who was utterly confused at the whole scenario. Arthur frowned, "There was a bleedin' massive _pigeon _staring at me!" Alfred blinked once; twice; thrice. Thirty seconds after letting the information sink in, he burst out laughing. "How did a pigeon hurt you?"

"I-it scared me shitless! It was bloody huge!"

Alfred sniggered. "Was it really, babe?"

"Yes, it was!"

"Alright, I believe you. But what did the pigeon have to do with any of this?" Alfred asked, stifling a yawn. He leaned down and kissed Arthur's bandaged hand before turning the coffee maker on.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "I was cutting the teacake, right?" Alfred sleepily nodded. "I looked up and this scrawny thing with gammy legs and soulless eyes was staring at me! I forgot I'd left the window open in the living room it came in and…"

"Wait, back up a bit, back up a bit. It came into the living room?" Alfred enquired. "Did you get it out?"

"No! I was sat on the couch because it was staring at me!" Arthur exclaimed, "Just there! Staring! I…"

Alfred snorted. "'kay, bro, whatever. At least your hand is better. Can we go back to bed?" Without even waiting for a reply, America grabbed England and dragged him to bed by his uninjured hand, ignoring the Brit's many protests. When in their room, Alfred sighed and flopped down on the double bed, pulling Arthur along with him. The Englishman gasped as he collided with the younger's toned chest and smirked when the other leaned up for a kiss. "Mmm, I love you, Arthur."

Arthur smiled and leaned down slightly to meet Alfred's lips, "I love you t-"

"Ah! What the _fuck _is that?!" Alfred interrupted loudly, scaring poor Arthur half to death. "Fuck!"

The American jumped up, standing well away from the bed, and knocked Arthur over in the process. "Get it away! Ah!" Arthur growled.

"Ouch, you bloody imbecile! That kills, you incessant twat!" He groaned, rubbing his bumped head. His head turned to where Alfred was cowering, hand outstretched, pointing to the bed they were just occupying. "What is it?"

Arthur's mesmerising eyes focused on a scabby, bedraggled looking pigeon, whose own head tilted to the side in a questioning manner. "_Coo_?" it 'asked'.

Arthur stared, wide eyed. "How the bloody hell did that scrounger get in here?"

"I- I don't know, Artie! But I do know one thing, we're moving." Alfred announced, taking them both by surprise. "Oh, would you look at the time… I have to do now, Artie!"

"What?" Arthur asked. "Alfred, it's three-forty in the bloody morning, where would you be going now?"

"Got some stuff with North Korea to sort out… Sorry! See you later, Artie! Bye!" Alfred shouted, already on his way out of the door. "Love you!"

"Alfred F. Jones, you get back here right n-" The door slammed before Arthur could carry on, and he sighed before he slumped down against the chest of draws. "What a prick. I _cannot_ believe he has _left_ me here with that… That _thing_!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air and frowning. "Looks like it's just me and you now, you disgusting vermin." He spat, glaring at the bird.

"Coo?"

* * *

_Sorry it's not a long chapter and for not updating! I think I might start setting dates for updates, y'know? That way it'll become regular. Anyway, school's been all blergh._

_BUT I GOT TWO A* IN THE PAST 2 WEEKS IN ENGLISH! AND I GOT TWO B'S IN BIOLOGY AND PHYSICS. :D_

_Enjoy the chapter. Please tell me any ideas you may have for later chapters; I think I've sorted out where it's going now. There might be __**mpreg**__ in later chapters so I'd like your opinions on that, if you'd be so kind._

_Laters! Love you guys!_

_~BritishTraveller_


	19. Chapter 19

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

* * *

It had been several weeks since Alfred buggered off back to the States, and Arthur was beginning to become rather itchy without his partner. "God, where is that twat?" Arthur mumbled to himself quietly as he made his way into the UN headquarters in New York City. The honey blonde man smiled softly as he noticed the Union Jack flying proudly on one of the many flagpoles that surrounded the modern building. "Hey, Arthur." Arthur frowned and turned his head, his forest green eyes locking onto light violet. "Oh. Hello, Matthew. You okay?"

Canada smiled. "M'hm. I just wondering if you'd seen Al'?" he asked, eyes twinkling with what looked like pure innocence.

"Ahem, no. I can't say I have. Not since he pissed off in the middle of the night a few weeks back."

"He just… left?" Matthew, slightly taken aback by what the Brit had said, asked. "That's not like Al. Not at all…" Arthur nodded.

"I know." He sighed and smiled at Matthew. The Canadian was about to speak again when the elder blonde strutted off, his back straight and head held high as he made his way into the meeting room. Canada exhaled and followed behind England, wanting so much to press the matter further but knowing he would only upset his brother's lover.

England set his briefcase down on top of the rather large wooden meeting table and got out his notes and paperwork. Ignoring those around him, which only at the time consisted of Russia (who had Belarus perched on his knee), China (who was swatting away fellow UN members from his perfect spring rolls), Germany and Prussia (the latter was chugging down beer like it was going out of fashion) and the Italian brothers.

Sitting himself down on his designated chair, the Brit put his leather case underneath the table and smoothed down his new black suit before getting out his original copy of the Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes and setting down his bookmark.

The Englishman was so concerned with his favourite book that he failed to notice a certain not-so-cheery Spaniard waltzing in with bleached blonde hair and a frown plastered upon his tanned face.

"Antoni…" Francis started as he gracefully skipped into the room, "…o" his face paled. "What on Earth happened to your beautiful hair?" Spain's expression faltered when his friend mentioned the mop on top of his sun-kissed skin.  
"Oh; Francis, hola! Lovi thought that it'd be a good idea to experiment with my hair and now it's all straw-like. It looks like Arthur's! What am I to do?" Spain exclaimed, throwing himself dramatically down into the nearest chair. He ran a slender hand through his hair, "Ohh!" with a sigh his forehead met his forearm on the wooden table, making a light 'thump'.

France gasped. "Toni! I have the perfect idea!" he hissed, "Get up! Get up!"

Antonio sniffed. "But-"

"No 'but's. I have a perfect plan and you're helping me." Francis said simply.

Spain rolled his eyes and turned his head to the left slightly, green eyes meeting cerulean. "What am I getting myself dragged into…"

_xoxo_

Alfred sighed, dragging himself into the meeting room. He was late, which was not unusual for him, but considering he was the host, everyone was rather irritated. That was, in fact, until they all saw what the American was wearing. '**SWAGALICIOUS**' was imprinted across America's chest in pink, size 22 comic sans; he had tight denim shorts on with baby pink Converse which came up to his ankles and in his hand was a Starbuck's coffee. "Sorry I'm late, guys. I've been really bu…"

"Al, what the bleedin' hell are you _wearing?_" asked a British voice, and Alfred sighed.

"Clothes. I'm wearing_ clothes,_ Arthur." Alfred said through gritted teeth as he yanked the only vacant chair back and sat himself down in it.

Everyone in the room widened their eyes more at the cocky American, all apart from one. Francis Bonnefoy.

"I wonder what's gotten that brat moody…" he mumbled to himself, his French accent was becoming stronger now as he thought of his later plan. Next to him, Italy sighed. "Francis, you really need'a stop being so nasty."

"Feli, I'm not being nasty. I am stating the truth. America is a brat; plain and simple." France said, sighing. Before Feliciano could add anything, Ludwig loudly declared, "Meeting dismissed! Half an hour break. Be back here at two thirty, ja?" Once everyone's mumbled replies of "yes", "oui", "si" and many others were received, Germany nodded, letting everyone go. Alfred was first out, grabbing a messenger bag (one in which he had his paperwork and doodles in) and sprinting down the corridor away from the others. England frowned, let out a sigh and walked out near the end. Francis made his way over to the Brit, "Angleterre! I need to talk to you!" pushing his way past a bouncing Feliciano and a gloomy Ivan, Francis growled. "Arthur!"

"Sod off, France. I'm not in the mood."Arthur bluntly replied as he ran a rugged hand through his soft, blonde hair and threw his jacket on his chair. "Please, just leave me for a bit."

_xoxo_

Arthur sat alone in the café, cradling his lukewarm black coffee that reminded him oh so much of his American boyfriend with The Smiths' 'There Is A Light That Never Goes Out' blasting through his headphones on repeat. It was a freezing day in New York City, and he was not going to chance getting a cold in the climate. He took a sip of his coffee and pulled a face at the coldness before pushing the white mug away. "Bloody horrible anyway…" he grumbled as he looked out of the somewhat dirty window, where Matthew was being pushed and shoved in every direction by busy New Yorkers. Arthur chuckled at the sight. "Bless him. Never was good with crowds…" As the line 'I never ever want to go home', (this summed up Arthur at that moment) came through his headphones, Matthew tripped through the door. He soon noticed the smirking Brit and blushed as he made his way over to the table. "Hello, Arthur."

"Alright, lad?" The Englishman asked as he turned off his music and put his phone away. "Want a drink?"

"I… Eh, no. I'll get it. It's okay."

"Not at all, lad! I'll get it. What do you want?"

"A latte, please. If it's not too much trouble!" Arthur smiled at the Canadian and walked up to the counter where Gilbert was stood chatting to Ludwig. With a polite, "Excuse me." Arthur passed the brothers and ordered himself another coffee and Matt a latte.

"Anything else, Sir?" Arthur barely registered there was a girl there until she snapped him out of his daze.

"I… Uh, I don't know. Not really. Do you have any cookies?"

The platinum blonde smiled, "Sure we do! Choc chip; double choc chip; marshmallow; white chocolate and raspberry; maple syrup; peanut or toffee?"

"Bloody hell, you've got quite a selection!" laughed Arthur, "I'll have one maple, one toffee and two double choc chip, please." With a nod and a flustered smile, the girl quickly got his order and set it on a black plastic tray.

"So are you here for business?" the girl, who Arthur assumed was Carrie due to her name tag, asked. She popped some of the bubble gum she was chewing and twirled a pudgy finger through her extensions.

"Partly, yes. I'm with this bunch of idiots," Arthur gestured backwards with his thumb to a café full of foreigners "my boyfriend lives here, too."

"Y-your boyfriend?" Carrie was slightly taken aback by the thought of the handsome blonde before her being as camp as Christmas, and simply stood with her mouth agape imitating a fish.

"Well, anyway. Here," Arthur placed fifteen dollars on the counter, "I think that's correct. Keep the change, love." Arthur grabbed the tray with both hands and proceeded to quickly carry it to his and Matthew's table as to avoid a confrontation with 'Carrie'. "Here you go Matthew, one latte and a maple cookie." Arthur grinned, slid the items over and held his own coffee between his slender hands to warm them up. "Thank you, Arthur. You didn't have to…"

"It's no bother, honestly. It's nice having someone to talk to…" Matthew smiled knowingly and nibbled on his cookie. "Yeah… But don't you have Al?"

"I… Well, yes, I suppose I do. It's different, though. I guess I can talk to you a bit more and about educated things, Matt." Arthur chuckled uneasily. He picked up his cookie, sliding the other two into his pocket for Alfred, and munched on it. He hadn't eaten in weeks.

"I feel the same, En- I mean, Arthur… I… I know I never really warmed up to you as much as I did to papa, but I promise you, I loved you more than I said. You were a great carer! Thank you… I'm sorry I never said it much."

Arthur smiled, "You said it a lot more than Alfred." He took a sip of his coffee before carrying on, "You were a pleasure to look after, Matthew. I'm sorry for taking you away from France all those years ago; I thought it was for the best…"

"Don't worry about it… You were there for me, so that's all that matters." Arthur ruffed up the other's hair.

"You're a good lad, you know that Matthew?"

Canada chuckled. "Thanks."

"I-I need to tell you something, Matt…"

"Anything, Arthur. Shoot."

"I think… I think I might be erm…" Arthur stopped. The sudden feeling of sick rising up his throat made him gag. "I…" Matthew paled.

"Go, Arthur! Quick!" The Brit nodded and ran off to the restrooms, one hand covering his mouth and the other pushing the door open. He quickly ran into a cubicle before throwing up the only food he had had in weeks; a toffee cookie. Once the terrible experience was over, England wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and flushed the toilet before walking over and washing his hands thoroughly.

Matthew sighed as England made his way over and brushed some crumbs off his chin while he ran a hand through his soft hair. "A-Arthur? I need to tell you something. It's about Francis…"

* * *

_Sorry I haven't updated in a while! Busy with school and stuff. Here's the new chapter, guys. I'm writing the next one now, I promise you. I'll give you the next chapter soon enough... You never know, more reviews may mean quicker updates? ;) *giggles mischievously*_

_The story might end soon, though._

_I'm not sure._

_Feedback is always appreciated and thank you to everyone who reads this!_

_See you next update..._  
_~BritishTraveller._


	20. Chapter 20

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Twenty

* * *

Francis sighed softly and smiled to himself. _The plan is going perfectly... Hopefully Arthur's out of the way now. I don't want him to get hurt. My beautiful Arthur... I'll have you._

Everyone else had abandoned the meeting room. One chair was still spinning from how fast the occupant had run. The two nations left were France and Spain, the latter snoring lightly with his head heavy on the table."Toni! Mon Dieu, wake up you silly Spaniard!" France scolded, flicking Spain on his tanned arm. "_Quick!_ Bef…" Just as Antonio rose, the two Europeans could hear Alfred as he made his way down the hallway.

"Stupid Frenchie… Damn it, I miss Artie. Why did I have to be such a dick? Fucking Poland, winning that stupid bet..."

"Oh! Si! The plan!" Spain said a little too loudly. Francis shushed him with an index finger to the lips. "Shh!"

"_Artie?_ That you in there?" Francis smirked.

"Bon." He leaned back against the wide wooden table and wrapped his long legs around Spain's waist, pulling him forwards.

"This isn't right, Francis. I don't want to do this…" Spain started. Francis' pink lips stopped him with a rough kiss and he automatically deepened it. He mumbled something, but it only came out as muffled 'mmm's. Antonio placed his hands on the Frenchman's waist, keeping him steady. He was enjoying it more than he should have been. Just as Spain ripped open France's beautiful suit shirt, the unmistakable noise of a door creaking open echoed throughout the room. The two Europeans looked too occupied to notice a tiny factor like that; but one of them did, and he grinned. He grinned so wide it was only when Spain mumbled his name that he stopped it. "Oh, Angleterre… Je t'aime."

Alfred froze. Right there, in the meeting room he had just entered was Francis. The American would not have been that bothered, really. It was only whom the Frenchman was with… Messy blonde hair, a black suit, the light casting a dark shadow on his porcelain face… It could only be one person: Arthur. Arthur, _his_ beautiful British boyfriend _Arthur._ Alfred swore his stomach dropped and did a few flips, he wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

"Arthur?" Alfred timidly asked, his voice breaking. "A-Artie? Come in, Artie. T-this… this is a joke, isn't it? H-ha ha ha. W-well, you can stop now. I get it. I… I was a dick; I'm sorry!" Alfred was pale and his eyes were beginning to water. He looked like he was about to throw up and cry all at once. Once he threw down his KFC bag, he walked a little closer. "P-please, Artie… Come on, s-stop playing tonsil tennis with the Frenchie…We… We'll go out some place, yeah? Just you and me, okay? We can fix this! I'm not angry… much." He edged even closer and saw a gleam in the Frenchman's cerulean eyes. "Arthur, baby, please…"

Antonio grimaced. He hated doing this. He felt so guilty and awful; why was he still friends with this man? He moved his head to the side so Alfred could not see his face as Francis leaned forward. "He doesn't want you, Alfred. Can't you see? You are just a child. Leave. Leave, before your heart gets broken."

The Spaniard closed his eyes. He didn't want this! He didn't want to break up a perfectly good couple! Pushing Francis off of him, he made his way out of the door. Francis watched and then turned to the American. _Okay, so maybe it didn't so exactly to plan... But I can still improvise._

Alfred growled; his stomach was no longer doing flips, but instead little karate kicks. "Get here now, you fucking asshole." Francis smirked.

"Aren't you going to go after Arthur, _mon ami?"_

Alfred sneered. "Nah, I'm gonna fuck you up first."

"Oh, you flatter me, Alfred. But I'll pass."

"Tough shit." The American cracked his knuckles. "Don't you worry about Arthur. I'll deal with him later." He grabbed the Frenchman by the tie and pulled his fist back, "God, I'm going to _love_ this, you fucking French bastard." Francis had a split second to prepare himself for the blow before his nose was broken. The crunch of his bones made the pain seem somewhat worse, and regret was soon Francis' thought. "Don't you ever," another blow. "ever," and another. This one in the eye. "_ever_ touch _my_ Artie again, capisce?" By now, Francis' head and nose were throbbing and the grip Alfred had on him was getting tighter. His face was battered and bruised, blood was dripping down his chin and he was sure he had a tooth missing. Oh well, he'd received worse.

Francis laughed. "Who said he was ever _yours_, Alfred?" He spat a mouthful of blood at the other. "What if he's realised how much of a _brat_ you are and wanted someone more... Refined? Did that thought ever cross your tiny mind, _big boy_?" He grinned toothily, his own blood smeared all over them. "Go on, beat me more. Angleterre won't _ever_ forgive you, though." He could barely open his right eye by now. _Oh God, the pain. _

Alfred stopped breathing. "D-don't say that, you fucking bastard. I'm sick of this! I'm sick of you! Arthur loves me, I know he does! Fuck you. I'm out of here." He exhaled as he dropped the Frenchman on the floor, blood still boiling with rage. His knuckles were bloody and sore, covered in both his and Francis' blood.

Francis' laughing stopped as he gasped for breath, coughing a bit. His smirk stayed though, even as he looked up at Alfred and the latter kicked him with a lot of force in the stomach. "You don't deserve him, America."

"Neither do you."

_xoxo_

"What do you mean, Matthew? What about Francis?" Arthur enquired. The Canadian had persuaded him to finish the rest of his own maple cookie, so the Brit was looking like he had a bit more colour in him.

"I think he's planning to break up you and Alfred, Arthur." he replied bluntly. There was no way to sugar coat it. "And it's not going to be pretty."

Arthur sighed. "Alfred's a smart lad when he wants. He probably won't fall for it, so we just have to hope he doesn't fall into the trap. I know what that bloomin' Frog's like."

"Hm." Canada gave a small smile and sipped his drink. "So, you think you're... Y'know?"

"I... I'm not sure, Matt." Arthur admitted. "I could be; It's not unheard of amongst nations..."

Matthew grinned, "I'd love a niece or nephew... Younger colonies are so cute!"

"I don't even know if it'd be a colony, Matthew. You know the rules; you're not allowed to change the land borders anymore..."

"You don't think it'd be a... human, do you?"

"I wouldn't know, I really wouldn't. I'd have to ask a nation who's been through it."

Canada nodded. Just then, a certain American walked through the door. "Al!"

Arthur smiled at the man who'd entered the small café, but received a grunt in reply. He frowned. "Hello, Alfred."

Alfred stalked over to the table and slapped Arthur in the face. "How could you, Arthur?!"

"Ow! What the hell!" Arthur rubbed his sore cheek and frowned, "How could I what?"

"You know damn well what, you little cheater!" He was crying now, and the lump in his throat was making it hard for him to talk. "H-How could you?" He whispered as he fell to the floor with his shoulders hunched over.

Matthew gasped at the scene before him. Alfred had gotten it all wrong! "Al! How could you hit Arthur?!" He shuffled out of his side of the booth and sat next to the Brit, holding him. The poor man seemed to be in shock. "He's done nothing wrong!"

"You would say that, wouldn't you, Matt? Poor Arthur hasn't done anything! Do you wanna know what he did?"

Arthur looked up and his forest green eyes met dozens of others. Most of the nations had turned and watched in shock as the third biggest of them all hit his own lover. "Alfred, please..."

"I don't wanna hear it, Arthur! You were there, kissing the face off France! I saw you with my own two eyes!"

Lovino chucked quietly and mumbled "Four." snidely.

"Shut up!" Alfred exclaimed, face red and tears streaming. He turned back to the Brit, "I loved you, you stupid idiot!"

Matthew groaned. "Alfred, shut the fuck up a minute! Don't talk to Arthur like that! You still love him, you're just overwhelmed with emotion right now!"

Arthur turned to Alfred and grabbed his bloody hand. "Alfred, for Christ's sake! I promise you, I didn't do anything with Francis... I love you."

"Bullshit!"

"Alfred! Don't you dare talk to the mother of your child like that!" Matthew shouted, slapping his brother. "You've made yourself look like a complete idiot." he mumbled.

"What?" Alfred interrupted, "What are you talking about, 'mother of my kid'?"

* * *

_Well, shit certainly went down... So much drama! Hope you enjoyed it; everything will be okay soon, so don't worry! _

_I'll be writing the next chapter soon, but I'm going to Thailand in a couple of days so I can't promise the update will be anytime soon. _

_Any and all reviews, follows and favourites are really appreciated! You guys keep me going, honestly._

_Thanks to everyone who has read this. Please tell me what you thought!_

_Happy Easter!_  
**~BritishTraveller.**


	21. Chapter 21

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Twenty One

* * *

_"What?" Alfred interrupted, "What are you talking about, 'mother of my kid'?"_

Matthew paled and gawped. _Did I just say that? Shit… _"Erm…"

"Well?" Alfred pressed, staring Arthur down intently as he stood with his hands on the table. A viscous look crept across his face as he turned his head to Matthew. "Jesus, Mattie! Arthur fucking cheated with that French bastard, and now you're saying Artie's preggo? Stop making shit up!"

"He isn't."

It was Arthur's voice now; he was clutching his stinging cheek, "He isn't lying, Al."

"Oh for chrissake! Will someone _please_ tell me what is going on? It's not April Fool's Day yet!"

"I think that dear Arthur is trying to say is that he is… How you say, "up the duff", da?" Ivan suddenly piped up. He smiled childishly, yet at the same time glared at the American. "I would _never_ hit anyone who was with child!"

Arthur sighed. This wasn't… _exactly_ how he wanted to tell Alfred. He had wanted to get him all excited and then break the news to him, hoping he would take it well. Hell, Arthur didn't at first. At least now he was fond of the idea. He just hoped that Alfred was, too.

Alfred gritted his teeth and turned to the Brit, "_Well_, Arthur?"

The whole room was silent. Nations were stood dumbfounded, a lot of them completely in awe at the scenario that had just occurred moments ago. Countries made eye-contact with each other, some looking desperate while others looked like deers caught in headlights. America never rose his voice like this; America never hurt anybody without valid reason; America never sounded so angry. America was supposed to be the land of the free and the home of the brave! America was supposed to be the hero. "Alfred, I think you should sit down." Ludwig said plainly. "If it's true, then Arthur doesn't need this stress."

Alfred frowned. "And if it's not?"

"If it's not, then it doesn't matter, does it? I think we would all rather be safe than sorry." Hungary piped up. "Please, Arthur. Do sit down."

Arthur nodded at the Hungarian woman's order; he could think of a hundred other things that were more appealing than her wrath...

Just as he sat back down, Alfred growled, "Arthur, get up." Arthur complied.

"No, Arthur. Sit down!"

"Stand up, _Arthur_."

"Arthur, for crying out loud! Sit. Down!"

"No! Stand up!"

Arthur bit his lip, "Shut up."

The two nations ignored him, however, and continued to stare and shout orders of "Sit down!" and "Stand up!". Arthur could feel the anger pulsating deep within him. "I said shut up."

Hungary frowned at Alfred, smacking him upside the head before turning back to the British nation, "Arthur, please. Sit down. Listen to Liz, okay? Please."

"No! Arthur, stand up!" America shouted, rubbing his sore head.

Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't listen to these two imbeciles fight; it was driving him insane. "Alfred, shut the fuck up!" Alfred did.

"_What?_"

"Shut the fuck up, you fucking nutburger! Can't you listen to others for once?! You're so selfish! Urgh!" Arthur exclaimed, panting slightly. "Look, we could have worked this out! We could have! But then you went and made a big show, you made a dick out of yourself. I can't even look at you right now." he added, turning his whole body. As Britain glanced up, he noticed that everyone's eyes were not on him, but on Alfred. He ignored the stares and walked off out of the cafe, shrugging off whoever's arm was on his shoulder.

The door closed behind him with a small thud. A slow clapping started, the unknown person's hands slapping together every second and a half. "Bravo, l'Amérique. Bravo."

_xoxo_

Arthur grumbled as he speed walked down the health isle of Fairway Market. "Bloody hell..." he said deflated, emerald eyes locking onto three whole shelves dedicated to condoms, lubricants and pregnancy tests.

"May I help you, Sir?" A male voice asked, and Arthur had to stop himself from squeaking out of surprise. "Sir?"

"Oh- Uh- I-" Arthur started.

The male chuckled, "I see." he flashed a toothy white grin and reached onto the shelf, grabbing a couple of different packets of condoms. "These are pretty good, I guess. I mean, I haven't got a girl pregnant yet."

Arthur shook his head vigorously. "No-"

"Oh, alrighty then! Not your type, huh? Erm... What about Strawberry Sunday?" he boy inquired, "Or Crazy Cola? Vanilla? Blueberry Muffin? Blow-Me Bubblegum? Minty Mouthful?"

"I-"

"We also have Bangin' Banana, Amazing Apple, Coconut Cock, Mmm Mango, Tropical Thunder, Hot Chocolate, Oh! Orange and a box of mixed."

"No, no thank you. That isn't what I was looking for."

"Well... I tell you what, dude. I'll let you have one hundred forty-four jimmies for one hundred and eight dollars and thirty-nine cents!" The worker stood proudly, a stupid grin plastered to his tanned face.

"Sixty-nine pound ninety-nine?! For one hundred and forty-four condoms?!" Arthur asked, shocked.

"I know, man! Good, right?"

"It guess it is... That's about, what? Forty-eight pence each?"

The employee frowned, "I don't know, man. Whats that in dollars?"

"About seventy-five cents."

"Shit. That's cheap."

"M'hm. I'll have some, I guess." Arthur shrugged. Come on, when else do you get the chance to get one hundred and forty-four condoms for _that_ price?

"Awesome!" The young lad ran out to the back of the store to get a bag. He never mentioned which ones he was getting. While the boy was gone, Arthur sighed happily and began grabbing four or five different pregnancy tests. The boy soon came back holding a big bag of 'Blow-Me Bubblegum' condoms. He winked at the Brit and handed him the bag, smirking and chuckling at the pregnancy tests. "Lemme guess, you got your chick knocked up and you're planning on having some amazingly hot, mind-blowing sex? Am I right or am I right?"

"No- I- uh. Whatever; yes."

"Sweeeet."

_xoxo_

Arthur sat alone in the bathroom, his back against the bathtub and legs splayed out on the white tiled floor. He rested his blonde mop against the edge of the bath and sighed, unrolling a Jaffa Cake Bar and biting into it. He licked the chocolaty remains off of his thumb and smiled softly, checking his watch just as the front door slammed shut. The noise made the smaller man jump and let out an unmanly squeak which the unknown visitor walked down the hallway. "Artie? Arthur?" Alfred. Arthur mumbled and threw the wrapper in the small bin, fist pumping when it landed in perfectly. "Arthur, you in here?" Alfred asked lightly, a quiet rapping on the door following his question. When Arthur grunted in reply, the American entered, eyes red and nose snotty. "Oh, here you are."

"M'hm. Looks like it." Alfred sighed.

He sat himself down, hugging his knees up to his chin and turned to his fiance as he used the sleeve of his blue Superman sweatshirt to wipe his eyes and nose. "A-Arthur..."

Arthur turned to face the American, one eyebrow raised with a quizzical look. "What is it?"

"I'm so sorry."

Arthur smirked and rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue and turning his head away, "I bet you are."

"I am; I swear! I- Arthur, look at me." Alfred struggled with Arthur. Why was he choosing now of all times to be a grumpy get?

"Alfred, just... Please. I don't want to hear it."

"No, just- just listen, okay? Please. Pinky promise you will?" Alfred asked sweetly, pouting and batting his eyelids. He noticed the Brit's lip curve upwards and linked his pinky with the other's. "Look, Arthur, I- I'm real sorry. I really am, I promise. I love you so, so much! I was just overwhelmed with emotions; y'know, seeing you with Francis..."

"But-" Arthur went to interrupt.

"No, I know. It wasn't you. It was Antonio."

"_Antonio?_"

"Yeah. He was in the meeting room; his hair was dyed blonde and I thought... I thought it was you. So I got angry - _real _angry - and punched France. Man, you should'a seen it! Ha. I sure teached him a lesson."

"_Taught._"

"Yeah, whatever. So anyway; I kinda beat up France- I mean, he was _asking _for it! Seriously! But I knew that deep down, you wouldn't do anything like that. My Artie would _never_ do anythin' like that! I knew you loved me, so I left. I went to see you, but you were grinning and laughing and somewhere within me a voice was screaming for me to stop, to not go any further. That it was all just a big misunderstanding... But I didn't. I didn't stop. I carried on walking, and I walked up to you and I did one of the most disgusting things I've ever done. I hit you. I fucking _hit_ you. Oh, God. I hate myself. I'm so, so, so sorry, baby!

Your face- Oh, man. I don't know why I did it... It was just instinct. I saw you and I just did it. The look on your face, it made me want to curl up on myself and just die. You were so shocked... You looked so frightened! My hand was pulsating, glowing; just like your beautiful face. Oh, sweetie. Look, I've left a bruise! I'm so sorry!"

Alfred continued on his ramblings, forgetting all about the Englishman he was leaning into. "I just- I thought that you'd cheated on me! I was so hurt... You've never looked at me that way before... I felt- I _feel _ like a complete monster. Oh, man." He chuckled, nervousness evident in his usually confident voice. "Come here, beautiful." Alfred - as gently as he could - took Arthur's face in his hand. Gently, he lifted up the other male's chin, turning it slightly to inspect the bruise further. It wasn't too bad, just slightly bluish and purple. It still made Alfred feel like the worst human being ever, though. Leaning in slowly, America placed a gentle, soft kiss on the bruise, careful not to hurt the Briton further. He pulled back slightly and smiled genuinely, looking into Arthur's grassy green eyes as he passionately kissed him. You could tell the American had chapped lips, but the moistness of Arthur's cancelled that factor out; making it barely noticeable. "I love you," he murmured against soft lips, "I love you."

Arthur mashed his lips against Alfred's, a smile gracing his as the American soothed him with his words. 'I love you.' was always a line that whenever Alfred said it, Arthur would fall in love with him again instantly.

It was a funny thing, love. Love could make you do weird shit. Love could make you happy; could give you the best of days and brighten up your world. It could make anything seem possible, make anything seem within reach! Love could make you a hero. Or, love could make you sad; could give you the worst of days and darken your world. It could make anything seem _im_possible, make anything seem so far out of reach; so near yet so far. Just a breath away. Love could _also_ make you a villain. "I love you, Alfred." And love could make you do the stupidest things.

Alfred smiled, "Now you can applaud my best mistake."

"Ha. You're a silly sod. Just remember, Alfred. The more we fall, the harder we must climb."

* * *

I am SO sorry for the late update! I can't believe it's been a month since the last one! But don't worry - I have the next chapter planned so I swear it will be updated ASAP! :D

If any of you can tell what song a couple of the last lines were from then you get a cupcake! Om nom nom.

As always, please let me know what you think! I love hearing your opinions!

Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story! Every time I see the amount of views, favourites and follows, my heart stops and it gives me a bigger push to carry on. So, thank you all so much. You mean a lot to me.

Stay awesome. Stay safe.

- BritishTraveller


	22. Chapter 22

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two

* * *

The two nations sat together, somehow content and peaceful on the tiled bathroom floor. The only noise throughout the whole apartment was their steady breathing and the cold tap dripping in the bathroom sink. It was peaceful and quiet and just how Arthur liked it. No CNN, no Fox, no ABC. Silence. Beautiful, calm, utterly lovely peace and tranquility- "Hey, Artie, how do you spell me?" Alfred's heroic voice asked rather loudly, breaking the silence the two had built up. It hurt Arthur's ears. Arthur froze and turned his head to look at the American, a baffled look on his face. "M. E. Why, are you that much of a nonce?"

"Where's the D?" Alfred asked. He had that stupid shit-eating grin etched into his face that made Arthur want to punch him just to wipe it off. He flexed and clenched his fist, just in case.

"There is no D in ME, Alfred." Arthur replied, sighing. Really? He can't even spell _ME?_

"Not yet there isn't."

Arthur's face went from confused to emotionless. "You disgust me."

Alfred cackled loudly for approximately six minutes and thirty-one seconds. Once he was done he gasped for breath and wiped a tear from his eye. He'd given himself a stitch in his side. After the giggles had died down, Alfred squeezed Arthur lightly and whispered his apology. He didn't really mean it though.

The silence continued after that, spanning another two or three minutes before Alfred again decided to interrupt Arthur from his thoughts.

"Art... How would you feel about going on a road trip?"

Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow and asked, "Pardon? A road trip? What's brought this on, Al?"

Alfred smiled softly and put an arm around the other, holding Arthur close to him. America chuckled deeply, "I jus' wanted to make it up to you, ya'know? I didn't mean to hurt you before, it was just instinct... And I guess that to make it up to you, I'd like to take you on a trip around my coast! We will go from NYC through the southern states and once we get to California, we'll go up towards Canada," he stopped and gasped for breath, "we can go and see him in Ottawa! That's if you wanna, anyway. I've got it all planned, it's just up to you, babe." He used his first two fingers from his right hand to push up his glasses which were slipping down his nose. As he did so, Alfred also glanced down to look at his lover and kissed his forehead. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of A4 pieces of paper with his plan on. Scribbled names of _Maryland, D.C, Virginia, North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, California, Oregon, Washington Stat_e and _AMERICA'S HAT! _were all on the papers in blue ballpoint pen, along with directions and plans of places they were going to visit.

Under the title of _Maryland_, Alfred had written what their plan was: a trip to Assategue Island. A trip to Huntsville to visit the US Space and Rocket Center was under _Alabama_. Arthur focused his forest green eyes on the paper and gawped at the rest of the list.

_D.C - _National Mall, International SPY museum! Georgetown etc.

_VIRGINIA - _Arlington

_N&S C - _Zipline and Broadway at the beach

_GEORGIA - _Stone Mountain Park

_FLORIDA - _Cocoa Beach and Ron Jon Surf Shop, Disney World MAGIC KINGDOM! and Universal Studios

He'd also cleverly written down the address to each of the places they were visiting. "So?" he asked. "Wanna see more?" When Arthur nodded in reply, he turned to the second page where more plans were. "Awesome, right?"

England sighed as he eyed the pregnancy tests on the edge of the sink, hidden slightly from America's line of vision. "I... Yes, I think that's a great idea, Alfred. When do you want to go?" he asked, turning his head towards the American and forcing a small smile.

'Now' wasn't exactly the answer Arthur desired to hear, but alas, it was the one he got.  
He stared at his boyfriend, "Now? What the bloody hell do you mean _now_?"

America's chest rumbled from his loud laughter. This was so typical of both of them. Alfred springing something upon Arthur and Arthur in turn freaking out and stressing over nothing. The slightly taller of the two smiled softly to himself and gave his lover a small squeeze, feeling rather content at the fact that everything seemed to be going back to normal. Normality is what Alfred desired most in the world. "I packed our bags already, old man. No need to stress, alright? Alright. Come on!"

Arthur gasped, "But I'll miss the French Open! And the news! And Muse's stadium tour! And the final of Britain's Got Talent! And- and don't forget the royal baby! We can't miss Kate's baby, Alfred! We simply can't!"

"Dude, just watch the re-runs! You already lost that Euromillions thing," Alfred started.

Arthur rolled his eyes and interrupted with: "Alfred, you plonker, that's the lottery. It's Eurovision - and I _didn't_ lose!"

_xoxo_

Alfred dragged his lover around New York city with a big grin plastered to his face. This is gonna be so great! he thought. He looked at his list briefly before shoving it back into his pocket. Then, he nervously checked his watch. 1:21pm flashed on his digital watch.  
Not being able to read tiny clocks on your wrist means jack shit! ...Digital watches ftw. he added to himself. Alfred tugged on Arthur's wrist once more and lead them in the direction of west 53rd street to MoMA. "We're at the Museum of Modern Art?" Arthur asked, wondering why on Earth Alfred would take him there. He had his own art museums.

"Yup!" Alfred grinned, "We got the Rain Room on now! It's _amazing_! Plus there's some old Claes Oldenburg stuff... You'll love it, I bet." Arthur smiled softly, Alfred _was_ making an effort, after all.

Arthur visibly paled once he'd entered the MoMA. Half of the stuff in there couldn't be considered as _art_, surely! Most of them were just splodges of paint thrown at blank canvases! Flying Mint Bunny could do better stuff than that. Arthur rolled his eyes. Get me out of here, he thought.

_xo_

"How awesome was that?!" America asked, or rather stated loudly as they were on their way to the Rockerfeller center. In his mind of flying french fries and strawberry shakes, that was the best hour and a half of the week! Damn, it was so interesting! I wonder why Artie looks grumpy?

"Mhm." Arthur mumbled, "So where are you dragging me to now?" His legs were hurting. He did like New York city, it was just so _big_. It felt a lot bigger than London, even though it wasn't. He put it down to the big buildings. Yup, that was it...

Alfred winked, stopping Arthur in whatever else he was going to moan about. He was so excited; they were going to ice skate at the Rockerfeller Center and go to the top of it! Eek! "You'll see."

Aside from Arthur slipping and falling on his arse twice and dragging Alfred with him, the ice skating went rather well. As they handed their skates back, Arthur felt the need to ask, "What happened to the meeting?"

"Called Ger- Ludwig. Had it cancelled. Why?" America replied back, taking his lover's soft hand in his calloused one. Arthur shrugged, so Alfred placed his pink lips on Arthur's pale temple. He was just like a porcelain doll: fragile and beautiful. "I've got another joke for ya, babe."

In England's opinion, the ice skating was a complete disaster. Alfred decided to embarrass him in the rink by shouting "Do he got a booty? He doooooo!" while pointing at Arthur's ass when Arthur was skating in front of him. And America announcing he had another joke was just the icing on the cake. "Go on." Bloody hell, it was only four o'clock and this was his _third_ joke of the day. 'How do you get holy water? You boil the hell out of it!' was his second. God help him for the third.

"Alright, alright," Alfred started, grinning and laughing like an idiot. He tried his hardest to pull a straight face. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"I don't know, Al," Arthur played dumb, "what _did_ they say?"

Alfred started chuckling to himself before he announced, "Nothing, he just waved."

"You're retarded." Arthur stated. He carried on walking.

"Wait! I got another! Ahem," Alfred cleared his throat, "What did the doctor say to the platypus?"

"I don't know, what did the doctor say to the platypus?"

"Sir you are in quite a pickle. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Arthur exhaled deeply with his eyes closed. "That doesn't even make any fucking sense, you twat." He stopped, turned and looked Alfred directly in the face. "One more joke and you're single."

America just chuckled, like Arthur would ever leave him! Oh, but he really wanted to tell him this funny joke he found on Tumblr... "What's the difference between peanut butter and jam? I can't peanut butter my dick up your ass! Wait! Where are you going?!"

* * *

_**H**ello! Sorry for the really long update! I found it hard to think of ideas. I love NYC! It's beautiful. I went to the MoMA and the Rockerfeller Center when I went, so the things these two will be doing will really be things I did because I can explain it easier? _

_But here's May's update! Hopefully June's will be up near the start; I have exams though so please don't count on me. I've got the rest of the chapters planned out so fingers crossed they won't be as long a wait for them! Good luck all you guys in the US doing your finals! And good luck to my fellow Britons with your GCSEs!_

_Also, I know the French Open is like, ongoing, but lets just pretend it hasn't started yet... This chapter _was_ supposed to be up ages ago, after all..._

_&Yes, Al's last joke was similar to the previous 'What's the difference between jam and jelly' joke. :3_

_Review's would be absolutely lovely~! Thank you all!_

-BritishTraveller


	23. Chapter 23

_I'm sorry this took so long. As well as my cousin passing away I've had really bad writers block and I had absolutely no idea what to write, so I came up with this. I apologise for missing out what they did in the first 6 states, but I just couldn't really be arsed writing it, if I'm being totally honest. But here you guys still are, as lovely and dedicated as always and still eager to read my work! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I tried really hard for days and because it is rather short, I am going to attempt to update within the next few days with a bonus chapter of what happens at the beach._

_I love you guys! Stay awesome, okay? Enjoy._

* * *

Four Hours

* * *

Chapter Twenty Three

* * *

_Forty six days, six states, twenty attractions, three seasons of Supernatural and a bucket of KFC later..._

Alfred placed a cooler full of water, Mountain Dew, Coca-Cola and Cadbury's and Hershey's chocolate on the floor of the car behind Arthur's seat. He locked the boot of the car and walked back inside their motel, deciding to give Ludwig a call to tell him all was well and to cancel the rest of the meetings they were expected to go to. As America opened the door to his and England's room, he was surprised to see England sat on the lumpy bed, emotionless with tears streaming down his face.

"'S'wrong, babe?" Alfred asked. He strode over and perched himself next to his lover. "You didn't start the next season of Supernatural without me, did ya?" He laughed, putting an arm around Arthur's shoulders. The other shook his head and closed his eyes tight, pursed his lips together and exhaled.

"I'm sorry."

Tilting his head to the side, Alfred frowned as worry started to build up inside him. "What are you talkin' about, Artie? Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry I never told you."

Alfred pursed his lips and stroked Arthur's hair, "Told me what, babe?" he laughed nervously, "C'mon, I won't bite. Just tell me."

Arthur gave a guilty smile which quickly turned into a grimace as he closed his eyes, clearly nervous. He used the palm of his hand to wipe his nose and tried to steady his breathing, as his whole body was shaking. "Al, you... You remember what Ivan said, don't you? Back in New York when we had that argument?" The small circles Alfred was making with his hand on the Brit's back was calming him down immensely and he could feel himself getting more relaxed until they stopped suddenly. The American beside him grew tense and his shoulders stiffened at the mere mention of the place and what had happened. "What about it?" He asked rather numbly.

"I..." Arthur started, "It..."

"Is it true, Arthur?"

A gentle nod.

"So... You're really pregnant? With- With _my _kid?"

Another nod.

"Dude... This is awesome! You didn't think to tell me sooner?" Arthur paused and looked up at Alfred, who had jumped up.

"What?"

"This is great, isn't it? I mean, a family, Arthur! A family! We could have a family. Don't 'cha think that is just brilliant? A real shot at being normal... Human."

Arthur sat on the cheap, scratchy green throw of the lumpy motel bed in shock. There was absolutely no way someone could take news like that so well. "I didn't think you'd take it so well..." Alfred nodded in response and started chatting away about how excited he was that he was about to become a father, all the while totally fine with the fact that Arthur had hidden it from him for weeks.

The two ended up having a little giggle and before they knew it they were checking out and getting back into the car to carry on with their road trip.

_xoxox_

Ten hours in a car with Alfred F. Jones may not seem like a long while, but man, was it a long while. Four hours in an elevator seemed like nothing when you're stuck with a loud-mouthed American rambling on about how excited he was, how much fun they were going to have, how he was going to protect is 'baby daddy'. Clearly all too much fun. After two and a half hours, Alfred was getting seriously restless. He was jumping around in his seat as if he were itching to do something, rolling his shoulders, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and huffing. "Al, are you alright?"

"Well sure I am!" Alfred grinned, "I just need some food, I guess..."

"Well how about you pull over quickly and I'll drive while you eat something?" Arthur offered, smiling lopsidedly. Alfred shook his head, saying that there would be no way in hell that he'd let Arthur drive while he was in the state he was in.

With a roll of the eyes, the messy haired Brit reached around and flipped open the cooler, displaying several bottles of water, Coca-Cola, 7-UP, a few cartons of Kool-Aid, alongside Hershey's bars, Twinkies and Cadbury's chocolate. Arthur pulled out some Kool-Aid, two Twinkies and a bar of Cadbury's for his fiancé before elbowing the cooler closed again and unwrapping the first Twinkie. The sweet smell of the sponge and artificial cream hit the Brit's nose and he pulled a face at the high cholesterol giving cake. Ever so slowly, as if he were feeding a lion a massive steak in a locked cage, Arthur held the item of food in between his thumb and middle finger and brought it up to the American's mouth. He devoured it within seconds and had his mouth open, ready for another. Arthur rolled his eyes and fed his lover. Only four left to go...

_xoxox_

"Man, what a great day to go to the beach!" Alfred grinned toothily the next morning, fully refreshed and bouncing up and down while putting Asia - Heat of the Moment on.

"Alfred, what the fuck are you doing playing this this early in the morning?" Arthur groaned from his side of the bed, still completely knackered from the long drive.

"It's Tuesday, Artie! Don't 'cha remember the episode of Su-"

"Supernatural. Yes, I remember." Arthur groaned. Supernatural was Alfred's new obsession and he was already sick of the constant chitter chatter of the actually really good TV show. England sighed and rolled out of bed, undressed himself and stepped into the shower whilst Alfred brushed his teeth and got their towels ready. Their plan for the day was to go to Cocoa Beach and head off to Ron Jon Surf Shop before going to find somewhere nice to eat. The next day was Disney's Magic Kingdom, and the day after Universal Studios. Man, he couldn't wait!

By about eleven o'clock the pair were dressed in some shorts and flip flops with plain t-shirts. Their motel was a little nicer than the other tacky ones they'd been to, as Arthur explained to Alfred that they weren't the Winchester brothers and certainly weren't going to act like them. Closing the door behind them, the two walked down to the beach, Alfred clutching Arthur's hand tightly and Arthur smiling softly.


End file.
